


Gauging the Soul

by SapphireBlueJiyuu



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Psycho-Pass, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Utilitarianism, Canon Divergence - No Hydra Takeover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/pseuds/SapphireBlueJiyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons begins her new career as an Inspector for the Public Safety Bureau. There, she meets her colleagues - many of whom are labelled as latent criminals by the "Sybil System". Their role in the PSB is to be the Enforcers - glorified hunting dogs for the justice system. </p><p>Amongst these Enforcers, one stood out from the pack - Grant Ward, a gifted Enforcer with a dark past and whose morally grey ideas regarding their city's "perfect" system threatens to crumble Jemma's faith in the very foundation that shaped her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Those Capable

**Author's Note:**

> _**Synopsis**  ;_
>
>>   
>  _" In the near future, when it is possible to instantaneously measure and quantify a person’s state of mind and personality, crime and violence is at a record low. The information, which is collected from each individual, is recorded and processed as a citizen's "psychological passport" (or commonly referred to as their “ **Psycho-Pass** ”) by the "Sybil System"._   
>    
>  _The "Sybil System" actively measures the populace's mental states, personalities, and the probability that individuals will commit crimes, using a "cymatic scan" of their brain. When the probability of a person engaging in crimes measured by the Crime Coefficient index exceeds a certain level in an individual, he or she is pursued, apprehended, and killed if necessary._   
> 
> 
>   
> **AN:**  
>  \- **Spoiler warning for Psycho-Pass**. This is a re-write of the first few episodes of Gen Urobuchi's anime series "Psycho-Pass". Some of the scenes, characters, dialogue, setting, and/or events have been modified or cut to fit my story purposes thus will not exactly correlate with the anime series. That said, there will be similarities that those familiar with the anime will recognize.  
>  \- A huge thanks goes out to **shineyma** for looking over this hot mess for me. :D You're my angel, Amy. Thank you once again.  
>  \- Originally posted on Tumblr. 

[ **01 / Those Capable** ]

"So," the ex-hacktivist began, as a predatory smile stretched across her attractive features. "Tell us about the new Inspector, Fitz. I hear you actually went to college with her. She a genius like you?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief. 

The Scotsman swallows thickly.

"Well,  _technically_ , she's probably smarter than I am. But that's because she loved homework more than life itself. And we went to a  _training academy_  together, not uni. She scored a 700 and was offered a whole bunch of different types of jobs right after our exit exams." Fitz rambled as he tinkered with a scanner drone. "She could've had any job at all; world was her oyster and all that. You would think she'd end up with a job at a fancy laboratory as a biotech analyst or a biochemist at some top-notch research facility..." Fitz tapered off and placed his screwdriver down before he turned the drone on. He watched it move about with calculating eyes as the drone scan the area for signs of life.

"But I guess she wasn't joking when she said she wanted to see the world."

* * *

 

"Excuse me, sir? I'm looking for Inspector Triplett; do you happen to know where I can find him?" 

Trip turned around and saw a young lady stand where the English-accented voice came from and offered her a winning smile. "You found him. But you can just call me Trip. I'm assuming you're Jemma Simmons, right? Sorry your first night on the job is going to throw you in the deep end. The CID is low on man power tonight so I can't actually give you the introductory tour but..." Trip leaned over the table and into a large filing case, "I can give you a uniform." He pulled out a dark blue jacket with the  _Crime Investigation Division_  logo on the back, like the one he was wearing, and tossed it to her. 

Jemma caught it easily and smiled her thanks to him before the sound of a large van pulled up next to the yellow taped off area. She turned to see a dark utility van stop just 20 feet from where she and Trip were talking before recognizing the vehicle. 

"A paddy wagon?" Jemma murmured as Trip adjusted the collar of his jacket and nodded. 

"Yep. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what an Enforcer is, right?" 

Jemma's eyes narrowed. "They're latent criminals whose skills are in tracking down and apprehending active criminals in the field under the direct authority... of the Inspectors." She recited it nearly verbatim from the academy manual but it gave her a false sense of comfort. 

"Which is a nice way of saying ' _send in a beast to hunt a beast'_." Trip said as the group of Enforcers walked down the short ramp from the van and made their way towards the officers' canopy. 

There was a lively girl (maybe a year or two younger than Jemma) poking at a man with a scruffy face and dark trench coat. He poked her back but other than that, wore a slightly amused look on his face. Next to him was a stoic woman in dark tac gear and a stern expression. Despite hardly making any movement at all, her dark eyes scanned the area constantly... as were the eyes of the towering man next to her. 

He looked to be in his early thirties, leather jacket over a dark dress shirt and a thin black tie. He looked strong, capably built with a face that was undoubtedly handsome, marred only by a deeply set scowl that looked to be permanently attached to his face. His scrutinizing gaze, which drank in the scene before him, halted abruptly on Jemma before he turned his attention towards Trip. 

She unconsciously wrinkled her nose at his outwardly cold persona as Trip introduced her to the team. 

"I know you've been briefed on the way here but since Inspector Simmons just arrived here as well, I haven't had a chance to go over the details of the case with her yet." Trip said as the weapons carriage rolled out form the paddy wagon and stopped in front of him. He pulled out a large black gun with wooden plates mounted into the sides of the handle that Jemma immediately recognized. The gun glowed a familiar shade of bright greenish blue when Trip picked it up and holstered it to the back of his pants, then stepped back as the others went forward to arm themselves. "Brian Massey backed himself into a corner and we're gonna tighten the noose. We'll split into two teams and zero in on the target. May, Ward, you'll be with Simmons. Skye and Hunter, you're with me."

"Roger that." Skye said as Hunter groaned next to her.

"Why do they get the birdie and I get stuck with your ugly mug?" 

' _Ah... he's British too._ ' Jemma thought briefly if Fitz had met him yet. Fitz never did make friend easily, it was even harder so when Jemma is around since he stuck to her like glue. 

Skye smirked as she holstered her gun. "Maybe because he didn't want to subject the rookie to a round of your ex-wife horror stories."

Trip looked over to Skye and grinned, "You know it."

Hunter glared at the Inspector as Skye giggled next to him. Jemma noticed that Ward's face stayed passive - even May had a small smile on her face as she tied back her long black hair. 

Trip turned to Jemma and gave her a reassuring smile, "May can brief you on the way in. Everybody?" Each of the team members looked over to Trip and waited for him to say the words that they were used to hearing before they went into the field. "Happy hunting."

Jemma watched them as they moved as one cohesive group and couldn't help but feel like she was intruding on a family with all the dynamics already in place. "So... what's the plan?" Jemma asked, not really sure who she was directing her question to, as she looked at the last gun that was left in the weapons carriage with scrutiny. 

"Well, for starters you might want to pick up your Dominator so we can get going." Ward grumbled.

Jemma turned to him with a glare but he sent one right back at her and she had a sinking feeling this was not going to end well. She's used a Dominator before so she wasn't really sure why she was hesitating.

"You don't have to be nervous." 

Jemma turned to see May giving her a soft look of encouragement. "You've used a Dominator before, haven't you?"

"Well, kind of. I actually helped designed this version of the Dominator back at the academy." Jemma said. 

Ward raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?"

Jemma lifted her chin and met his gaze. "Yes. My partner and I made improvements to all the weapons the CID uses. The Dominators, the EMP grenades, Stun batons; we designed them all."

He narrowed his eyes in skepticism. "Are you telling me you're half of FitzSimmons?"

"Oh? So you've heard of us?" Jemma smirked as she finally picked up the Dominator and heard the directional voice on the gun calibrated itself to her specifically. Only she could hear the voice since she was the one who was holding the gun. 

The Dominator was Fitz and Jemma's greatest accomplishment: a gun that can read the Psycho-Pass of the target the officer is aiming at immediately. The safety is only released when it registers the target as a latent criminal; all an officer had to do was follow the Dominator's commands. If it said to shoot, then the safety is released and the gun is ready to fire. The basic mode on the weapon is set to  _paralyzer_  which, as the name implied, only temporarily paralyzes the target so that they could be taken into custody. 

So many late nights spent on perfecting this tool, Jemma never thought she would ever be utilizing it herself.

"Yes, Agent May, I know exactly what this weapon can do."

"Then let's go." Ward grumbled as he headed towards the direction that Trip's team went. 

Jemma scowled at that. "Wait! Shouldn't we have a briefing? Come up with a plan to catch this Brian Massey?"

Ward rounded on her quickly and said very plainly, "May and I will hunt the prey. You will observe our every move. That's all there is to it."

'What is with this guy?' Jemma thought before clearing her throat, "I was thinking something a little more strategic."

May swooped in and rescued the conversation. "All he's saying is leave it to us."

"Our methods work just fine. But, since you're the inspector, you're responsible for our actions. If you decide you don't like the way I'm doing my job, shoot me with your Dominator." Ward said as she stood there stunned. "You know... since we're latent criminals too all. To the Sybil System, we're no different from the target. So you're free to paralyze us if you have to."

She watched Ward turn a corner and disappear into the darkness. She can't help but wonder why he was being such a prat when she felt a hand land on her shoulder. "Don't worry about that stubborn blockhead. You're going do just fine." Jemma nodded as she followed the two Enforcers into the dimly lit alleyway. 

* * *

 

It took about twenty minutes to find the culprit half way through raping the poor woman he had taken hostage. Hunter aimed his Dominator at the man and shot him with a paralyzer but that only made him angry.

Jemma was completely stunned by the fact that the target didn't fall over as expected and soon surmised that Massey must have been hopped up on some type of unstable narcotics which messed with the dendrotoxin when it entered his system. 

The team ended up pursuing Massey on foot.

"Damnit." May muttered under her breath.

"What is it?" she felt her CID issued metal bracelet vibrate softly as the blue light blinked. 

"It's an Oracle from the "Sybil System"..." May grounded out as they ran for the elevator and waited for Jemma to get in before she pushed the button for the parking level. "New judgement for Mr. Massey had just arrived. Seems like he's over extended his welcome in this world."

Jemma's eye widened. "Elimination? Just because he got flagged by a routine street scan?" She didn't want to think about what drove this man to become so violent. She remembered that Trip had mentioned that Massey probably panicked, ran himself into a corner and just kept spiraling out of control from there. Jemma was sick to her stomach at the thought that nothing will work on Massey anymore, not even therapy. 

This was only confirmed by May. "The judgement states that he's way outside the realm of rehabilitation." The Enforcer's face was passive but she still sighed heavily. "It's a shame your first case has turned out to be such a nasty one. We better wrap this up before the hostage passes the point of no return."

That got Jemma's stomach rolling again. "You don't mean... Psycho-Hazard... do you?"

The older woman nodded solemnly.

Jemma remembers writing her thesis on the subject. Its a sad fact that Crime Coefficients can be contagious. Young people nowadays are rarely ever exposed to severe stress, so they are the ones most susceptible to breaking down when confronted with a violent act.

And the terrifying fact of the matter was... it could happen to anyone of them. 

They stepped off the lift and saw Massey just running past them with his hostage slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The pursuit finally ended when they cornered him on the base level of an abandoned apartment complex. Massey, winded from all the running, heaved great big gulps of air as he placed the traumatized woman on the cold asphalt and held up a knife to her throat, screaming at May and Jemma to put their weapons down or he will slice the woman's throat.

May looked over somewhere past Jemma's shoulder before putting her Dominator on the ground, Jemma following her lead. The guns glowed an eerie red as Massey dropped his knife on the ground and pushed the poor woman behind him to pick up the gun. As expected, the gun did nothing as he tried to pull the trigger; Massey was not authorized to use the Dominator, therefore, they were safe for now. 

Just as Jemma was going to try and talk him down, she heard a shuffling noise to her left and then within a fraction of a second, Brian Massey disintegrated into a pile of blood, guts, and limbs. The woman he had hostage was screaming and whimpering as she was covered nearly from head to toe in the guy's blood. 

Jemma looked over and saw Agent Ward holstering his gun as he walked over to the body. 'So that's what May saw...' Jemma thought as the Enforcer called in on their bracelet to Trip that the threat has been neutralized. Jemma rushed forward and crouched down in front of the woman.

"Miss? We're with the Public Safety Bearu. We're here to help you. Are you hurt?" Jemma asked.

The woman's face was etched with terror. "No... you can't do this to me. I'm a  _good_  citizen..." The woman looked from Jemma to the Dominator in her hand and back at her, her eyes widened in fear. "You can't take me in. It's not fair... leave me alone!"

Jemma's eyebrows furrowed. "What? No, we're here to save you. Please, just calm down."  

Then from behind, she saw a shadow fall over her and the woman. She turned to see Agent May pointing her bloodied Dominator at the hostage. 

"Agent May? What are you doing?" Jemma's voice filled with confusion.

"Simmons... you need to check the stats on your gun. She's got a Crime Coefficient of over 160. We have to bring her in." May replied solemnly. Just as she was about to pull the trigger, Jemma leapt forward and grabbed onto May. "No! Leave her alone!" Jemma shouted.

It was enough of a distraction for the woman to flee the scene screaming bloody murder as May tried to push Jemma off of her without hurting the young Inspector. "Simmons! What are you doing?!"

"We're supposed to be protecting her!" Jemma insisted as she clung to the older woman. 

"What the hell do you think the Paralyzer is for? We'll knock her out and take her in to get help!" May tried to reason with her but Jemma was not backing off. 

"She's frightened and confused, you don't have to use the Dominator on her!" Jemma pleaded.

May glared at her in utter frustration. "As someone who actually helped designed these weapons, you should know better than anyone that the Dominators are directly connected to Sybil! The system itself has determined that this woman is a threat to society! Think about what that means!"

Jemma's arms loosened just enough for May to twist out of her hold. "And you are perfectly fine with shooting an innocent woman?" The young Inspector's eyes clouded with anger and desperation. "I  _refuse_  to believe that that is the only course of action that we can take!"

* * *

 

While the tussle between Jemma and May took place next to Massey's slowly decaying form, Ward had wandered after the woman (who was identified by the Dominator as Linda Martin, age 24, an accountant who lived about two blocks from the place where she was abducted) with his weapon set to Paralyze.

He found her moments later covered with gasoline which she must have slipped over and thus into when she was trying to get away from them. He stepped into the liquid but stopped a few feet from her when Linda held up a lighter in her hand. She screamed for him to back away and not to come any closer to her or she would light them both on fire. 

Ward calling her bluff, held his Dominator aloft and was about to about to pull the trigger when he heard her calling out to him from the darkness.

"Ward, wait!"

Grant turned his head to see that Jemma had caught up to them and was trying not to let the fear in her eyes seep into her voice. 

"Please. You don't have to do this." Jemma pleaded on the verge of tears.

Grant raised his gun and the Dominator reappraised Linda Martin and reset the gun to Eliminator mode. 

"Sybil says she is a threat that must be neutralized..." His voice was even and cold. "for the safety of the city." 

Jemma's eyes widened. "No... please...  _stop_...!" The blood that was pumping through her veins drowned out the sound of Ward's Dominator powering up to eliminate Linda Martin from the face of the Earth. She kept thinking that there had to be another way, that the PSB was there to  _protect_  its citizens, not kill them. 

And so, before she could even second guess herself, Jemma pulled the trigger on her Dominator and watched in shock as Ward's body seized up and fell to the ground with a resounding thump, his gun immediately deactivating the moment he let go of it. 

Linda Martin flailed about in horror threatening to strike the lighter as she screamed for Jemma to stay away from her. 

"That's enough now, Ms. Martin. You've gotta put the lighter down. Because if you don't... I won't be able to stop this gun from killing you." Jemma coaxed her.

May watched her with a slightly surprised look on her face as Jemma softly but firmly spoke to the poor woman as though she were a wounded animal. "Please, Ms. Martin... I only want to help you. Throw the lighter down and everything will be fine. I promise." Jemma said sincerely. 

Linda hesitated for a moment before she dropped the lighter onto the wet floor, her whole body shook with terror and adrenaline. 

Jemma heaved a sigh of relief when she heard her Dominator reappraise Linda Martin's threat level to a Non-lethal enforcement mode. 

Then, Jemma watched as Linda's body seize before slumping forward onto the ground next to Ward. From the direction the shot came from, Trip and his team emerged from the shadows with Skye grinned gleefuly. Hunter whistled low as he took in the scene.

Trip heaved a quiet sigh; he probably saw the whole thing go down. With a heavy heart, he said, "Inspector Simmons... Chief Coulson will need a full report of what transpired here first thing in the morning." He then turned away from the scene and called for the paramedics to come and take Linda Martin to the rehabilitation center and Ward to the hospital wing of the PSB headquarters. 

Hunter walked over and crouched down to look at Ward. "Looks are most definitely deceiving in your case, love. I would  _not_  want to be there when Ward wakes up, that's for sure." He smiled up at her approvingly. "I'll remember not to cross you, ma'dam Inspector."

* * *

 

Her alarm woke her the next morning and on most days, Jemma would have greeted the morning with a smile on her face.

But not this day.

This day she just wanted to crawl back under the sheets and bury her face into her pillow in shame.

"Bollocks..." She softly cursed.

Shuffling to the other side of her bed, Jemma pulled her tablet from its charging dock and looked at her schedule for the day.

 **11:00 am**  -  _Lunch with Fitz_  
**02:00 pm**  -  _2nd day of duty at the PSB HQ_

Jemma groaned as she sluggishly pulled herself out of bed and into a pair of sweats and a workout bra. Jumping on the treadmill was normally invigorating to her. But not that day. 

That day, her mind was left to wander aimlessly with nothing stimulating it. And as expected it ended up replaying last night like some kind of sick Vine video, doomed to repeat over and over those torturous 6 seconds. 

The look on Ward's face as he fell could be described as utter shock mixed with contempt and unholy rage. Jemma could be just thinking the last bit there herself, seeing as he was passing out moments after s...

She nearly lost her footing on the treadmill but was able to right herself before she tipped forward and slammed her head on the console. Slamming her hand on the bright red button that immediately slow the machine down for her to walk and then stop, Jemma leaned against the handrail as she caught her breath. 

She wondered absentmindedly if she should go in and see him today. ' _It would only be polite to, right?'_  It wasn't like she would never see him again. The best thing she could do is just get it over with now rather than later. ' _What kind of flowers would be ideal for a temporary hospital patient? Probably something allergenic-free? So something with the pollen hidden on the inside rather than exposed like a lily, maybe? Something with a woody stem... so it doesn't have to be watered often by the hospital staff. Plus a hospital ward would have lots of people constantly walking in and out of the room... so the arrangement should be minimal and the vase should be durable. Maybe I should just go with a house plant..._ '

Jemma sighed as she turned the treadmill back on and thought humorlessly to herself that it was too bad they didn't make greeting cards that said, "Sorry for shooting you on my first day of the job. Get Well Soon." 

* * *

 

The sun beat down on her as she took her seat across from her best friend on the veranda of a shopping center food court. He was in the middle of finishing what looked to be his second plate of food and reading something on his tablet when she slumped down with her food. 

Her lackluster greeting must have gotten his attention as he finally looked up at her.

"So... I'm assuming you heard." Jemma mumbled as she took a bite of her chicken salad sandwich. 

Fitz looked close to bursting with mirth. "Haven't even stepped in to the HQ building and you're already a legend. Honestly, at this point, your natural talents for making a name for yourself must be a curse."

Jemma glared at him. "This isn't funny, Fitz!" 

"You're right; it's hysterical!" Fitz countered. "Seriously even a bunch of the higher ups are talking about how you stared down the  _impenetrable_  Grant Ward." Fitz sat up and stiffened his shoulders and glowered at his bag of chips. " _I'm agent Grant Ward. And I can shoot the legs off a flea from 500 yards... as long as it's not windy._ " he said in a rough American accent. He's gotten quite good at his imitations, Jemma thinks. 

"More like, ' _I'm agent Grant Ward, and I could rupture your spleen with my left pinky... blindfolded._ ' " Jemma tried and smiled for the first time in the last 15 hours. 

" _I'm agent Grant Ward and I tackle perfectly harmless and good-looking engineers to the ground because I thought he was going to get shot._ "

Jemma's eyes widened at that. "You were being shot at?!"

Fitz waved it off with a chip. "Yeah but it wasn't a big deal. The perp was piss drunk at the time; they're was no way he would've hit me. Plus, I'm sure the Super-Agent-Man had it in for me for months now."

"Ward tried to save your life, Fitz. You could do with being a bit more grateful." Jemma chided him.

"Oh and you've got room to speak Miss. Nice-ta-meet-you-BAM!" 

She glared at her friend. "You don't have to be so tactless about it. I didn't  _mean_  to hurt him." She took a generous slip of her drink before she rushed on, "And besides, I was trying to save that poor woman's life. She was an innocent victim!"

"Sybil didn't think so." Fitz said seriously before he sighed at Jemma's crestfallen face. "I don't know how you do it. You're this distressed over the incident and yet your Psycho-Pass is completely clear. Could it be that maybe you're not that upset about shooting the bastard?"

"Don't even joke about that! I couldn't even get a full hour of sleep last night  _and_  I nearly gave myself a concussion on the treadmill this morning!" Jemma grieved into her food.

"And yet you somehow manage to be the paragon of mental health! I'll never understand how it is that you stay so bloody healthy..." Fitz grumbled.

"I don't know..." Jemma shrugged, "call me thick-skinned. Besides, its not like I'm doubting the Sybil System or anything. But maybe I'm just not cut out to be an Inspector for the PSB." 

She looked up to see Fitz glaring at her. "What?"

"Really?  _Really?_  Simmons you scored a 700 on our exit exam-"

"So did you!"

"Irrelevant; I'm not the subject of this conversation. You could have taken a job anywhere but you decided that you wanted a job that directly helped people; a job where you can truly see justice and science melding together to help the general public. You got two PHDs before you were legally able to vote in this bloody country and you're saying  _now_ that you can't hack it as a civil servant?"

Jemma blushed furiously. Fitz sighed as he began to gather up his trash. "Look... all I'm saying is that there's nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it. You're only nervous because it a new job in a field you might not be completely a genius at yet. I know for a fact that no one can possibly do this job better than you... and that's got nothin' to do with a bloody aptitude test."

Her smile was genuine as Fitz went on, "You're Jemma Simmons for God sakes! What  _can't_  you do?"

Jemma wrapped up her half eaten sandwich and sighed, "Decide whether I should bring  _sansevieria trifasciata_  or  _chlorophytum comosum**_  for Ward when I visit him in the med-bay."

"Oh,  _sansevieria trifasciata,_  definitely." Fitz suggested. "More practical."

"Thanks Fitz. I knew having lunch with you would do the trick." Jemma said as they walked out of the food court and rode the escalators down.

"What are friends for?" Fitz teased.

Outside, the sun was shaded a bit by a patch of cloud that rolled by lazily. "I'll see you at HQ in a bit." Jemma called to him as she got into her car. 

"Yep." Fitz was about to walk on when he turned back abruptly and told her to roll down her windows. "Hey... you remember that saying that was on the front cover of the academy manual?  _What needs to be done is done by those capable. Such is the grace bestowed upon mankind by the Sybil System._ " Jemma was left stunned by his words and he chuckled. "You were meant to do this job, Jemma, have a little faith."

* * *

 

Jemma arrived at the Public Safety Bureau about an hour before she was scheduled to clock in and looked up at the tall structure that towered over her. The PSB HQ was a tall circular skyscraper made primarily of a dark gunmetal material, giving the building an ominous aura as she walked into the lobby. The receptionist at the front desk smiled at her as she approached the counter. 

"Good afternoon, Inspector Simmons. How may I assist you?" The receptionist asked in an eerily melodic voice. Jemma figures she will never truly get use to androids sounding so human like, even if a part of her wanted to set it down and take it apart to see if it was a basic humanoid or if it was implemented with Nanoborg technology. 

"Hi. I was wondering if I could check on the stats of an Enforcer who was admitted into the medical bay last night. His name is agent Grant Ward." Jemma murmured in a low voice to make sure that the man who was speaking to the other receptionist couldn't hear. 

"Certainly. You may inquire about Agent Grant Ward's medical status from Barbara Morse in the Comprehensive Analysis Laboratory on the 80th floor. Will there be anything else I can assist you with?" the receptionist asked.

Jemma smiled. "No, that will be all. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, Inspector Simmons. Have a wonderful day."

She rode the lift to the 80th floor and found the laboratory with relative ease. The frosted glass door slid open to reveal a woman with long blonde hair sitting behind the desk of a super computer with 6 different monitors hooked up to it, each one with different windows of information and data crunching happening simultaneously. Behind her though, was a raised stainless steel medical work table.

The place looked more like a hybrid of a home office and an examination room at a clinic.

"Uhm, excuse me? I'm looking for Barbara Morse?"

The blonde looked up with a beautiful smile. There was something in her eyes that Jemma couldn't shake; they glittered as though she were holding a wicked secret on the tip of her tongue. "You must have been sent by one of the androids from up front right? I keep trying to get Fitz to hack their systems so they'll call me Bobbi instead of Barbara. What do I look like a old spinster?" She stood up and walked over to shake Jemma's hand. 

"So, whose askin'?" 

Jemma stood up straighter and answered in a clear voice, "I'm Inspector Jemma Simmons of the Crime Investigation Department-"

Bobbi' eyes lit up. "Ha! So you're the English birdie who shot down Ward with the Paralyzer last night! Well, you're a lot cuter than Hunter gave you credit for. And ballsy too. Look at you!" She smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest and grinned down at the petite Inspector. "So what the hell happened? Let me guess: was he being a perv? Did he grab your ass?" 

"W-what? N-no, nothing like that-" Jemma stammered, blushing furiously at the thought of agent Ward doing anything like that. 

Bobbi sighed as she turned to sit on her swivel chair. "I swear, that boy is never going to get a girlfriend if he keeps being a self-righteous jackass."

Jemma shook her head and tried to get the conversation back on track. "I heard that you were the one to ask about an update on agent Ward's condition."

"Oh... of course." Bobbi typed as she waved Jemma to come in and take a seat on a long plush couch the sat perpendicular to her desk. "Can you believe the government's got me delegating employee health care out of the Analysis Lab just because I've got a PH.D. in Biochemistry? I mean, sure, I'm also a latent criminal, but that doesn't give them the right to treat me like a freakin' slave while I'm not on active duty."

Jemma tried to process everything that Bobbi had just revealed to her and was left slightly befuddled. "Oh, you have a degree in biochemistry too?"

Bobbi smirked, "Yeah. Fitz told me that that was your field of expertise too, right?"

Jemma nodded. "So... you said  _not active duty_. Not active from what type of duty?"

"I'm an Enforcer normally but I blew out my ankle and dislocated my shoulder last month jumping from the fifth story of a high-rise while chasing down a perp. I got the guy in the end so it was worth it." She replied casually. 

Jemma was about to comment that that was not something she should be taking lightly when Bobbi pulled up a live feed of Ward in his hospital bed and the words got stuck in her throat.

The first thing she noticed was that he looked so peaceful when he was asleep. As though all the stress and anger and sadness he carried around with him had seeped out of his body for the time. And then she realized that she hadn't known the man long enough to know what he should or shouldn't look like when he's asleep. Also, looking in on him like this felt as though she was invading his privacy. 

She felt a bit foolish when she turned away blushing. 

 "I don't know where you were aiming but you managed to land a direct hit right on his spinal cord." Bobbi pointed out, "So he's still got a little more healing to do. Not exactly up to walking and talking yet." She turned around and mischievously added, "He's not up for having any fun in bed either."

Jemma huffed a humorless chuckle. "He's likely to shoot me rather than jump me."

Bobbi laughed. "Nah! Ward's a big softy under all that bitter Scotch coating. You'll see." Bobbi assured her as her fingers flew across the keyboard. "You can peek in on him, if you want. 'Course he won't know you're there..."

Jemma shook her head morosely, "No, it's fine. I don't want to risk waking him."

"He should be back to normal tomorrow. He just needs a full day of rest." Bobbi assured her. "Check back in the morning and you can talk to him then."

"Okay..." Jemma sighed dejectedly and thanked her as she existed the lab. 

"I'll have you know that you're kinda my hero right now, Inspector Simmons" Bobbi called out to her as she was stepping over the threshold of the door. She waited until the English woman turned around and then smiled at her, "Don't worry about Ward. He needs someone who'll knock some senses into him every once in awhile." She winked. 

Jemma gave her a halfhearted smile and nodded before retreating to find her way to the PSB offices. 

* * *

 

Half way through writing up her report of last night's  ~~disastrous~~  incident, her keyboard refused to work. She looked around and saw both Skye and Hunter doing their own thing; one was coding something that looked to be in a foreign language on her laptop and the other was drinking beer and watching a football match on his tablet. Jemma rolled her eyes and got up from her desk, carrying her defective keyboard with her. "Uhm, could I get a new keyboard. It seems like mine isn't working properly."

Refusing to take his eyes off the screen, Hunter replied distractedly, "Last time I heard, Agent Ward was using all the spare equipment."

Jemma narrowed her eyes. "But he's... that is... Agent Ward is still-"

"recovering from being shot?" Hunter offered. "Why, yes, he is- OW!"  He rubbed his arm which stung from being shot with a rubber band. "Oi, what gives Skye?" Hunter whined. 

"Quit being an ass." Skye quipped at the Englishman. She turned and smiled sweetly at Jemma. "Here. You can use mine since I'm not using it anyway."

Jemma smiled at the other girl. "Thanks."

May walked in then with a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder. 

"What is this? Melinda May is late for work?" Hunter teased. "What's in the bag, May? Is it a body?"

May narrowed her eyes at Hunter before stating very plainly, "You know I don't like you, right?"

Skye snickered at the look on Hunter's face just as the siren went off in the room. 

> _**Attention** : **Elevated Area Stress Level Warning**. A Psycho-Pass above the regulation value has been detected at the Westfield Shopping Center in Century City. The on-duty Inspector and available Enforcers are immediately required for intervention at the scene. _
> 
> _This message will now repeat._
> 
> _**Attention** :  **Elevated Area Stress Level Warning.** A Psycho-Pass above the regulation value...  
>  _

"Aww, too bad our shift just ended." Hunter said, feigning distress. "Have fun."

"Do you want some backup?" Skye asked May. "I'll cover for Ward."

"Thanks but that won't be necessary. I'm sure we can handle it," May assured her before turning to Jemma, "right, Inspector Simmons?"

Jemma looked around and couldn't find Trip anywhere and realized that she was the only Inspector on-site. She tried not to let the panic set in too much as she nodded before absentmindedly walked out of the offices with both her and Skye's keyboard.

She blushed furiously as she scuttled back in and placed both of the keyboards at her desk before she grabbed her bag and ran out, trying to ignore the smirks on her colleagues' faces. 

* * *

 

"We've had drones posted on each of the mall's exits since the warning was triggered." May said as they arrived on the scene. "But they haven't managed to catch whoever's raising the area's stress level. So we'll have to stay sharp." 

Jemma looked over at the weapons carriage and swallowed thickly. "Will we have to use the Dominators for this?" She hoped not.

"We should keep them on us, just as a precaution." May reasoned but then her face softened a bit. "But I doubt we'll need to unholster them."

Jemma nodded and armed herself before walking out of the shopping center's security center and into the flow of patrons. The mall was relatively slow for a Friday afternoon but Jemma figured it was probably because of the police presence most people are probably off somewhere else in the mall where there isn't a possible danger lurking from the shadows of the retail stores. 

It was close to an hour later before May stopped abruptly at the outdoor dining area pavilion. 

"What's the matter, May? Are you hungry?" Jemma asked.

May shook her head. "I found him."

"Him who?" Jemma asked, puzzled. 

"The perpetrator." May said as she cautiously wove through the throng of people.

"Wait, what? How could you be sure without scanning him?" Jemma questioned as she tried to catch up with the Enforcer.

May shrugged. "Call it intuition." she said as she finally reached the man who was hiding out behind a thick palm tree, creepily watching the couple who was sitting on the bench. "Excuse me, sir. Would you mind if we took a quick measure of your Psycho-Pass?"

Just as Jemma was about to approach the man in question, he panicked and tried to run. May lunged forward and discreetly pulled him off behind an empty vendor stand and pinned him to the floor as she scanned him with her CID bracelet. "Mr. Jason Warner. Your Psycho-Pass is 154. As suggested by Sybil, you are in need of some emergency therapy."

She pulled out her handcuffs and pulled him up to a standing position. "I'll need you to come with me." 

"What? But why? I haven't done anything wrong." His protests fell on deaf ears though as May guided him to the nearest exit. 

Jemma was left there stunned, feeling useless. 

* * *

 

Back at HQ, Jemma tried calling Fitz to see if he would be free to grab dinner before she went home for the night but he didn't pick up. She figured he was probably lost in his work and Jemma can understand that feeling all too well of zoning out from the world and getting engrossed in a project, so she doesn't pester him.

She takes a seat by herself and was about to start reading a science journal on her tablet when a familiar voice caught her attention. 

"Mind if I join you, Inspector?"

Jemma watched as Lance placed his tray of food down in front of her but made no move to sit down. "Sure, I don't see why not." Jemma began, hesitating before she continued, "But I thought you were done for the day, Agent Hunter."

Lance snorted. "You do realize that we Enforcers are prisoners, right? Even when we're not on the clock, our access is restricted to the CID and our own personal quarters." He took a bite of his burger before looking up at Jemma sheepishly. "By the way, uhm, sorry for acting like a jerk earlier. I was a right git for gettin' carried away like that, even if I was just yankin' your chain. As you can probably tell, the women here are kinda scary. It's nice to have a pretty face whose not glaring me down every time they see my mug."

Jemma gave a soft smile before waving off his apology. "That's alright. I expected a bit of office hazing. No harm done really."

Lance watched her with scrutinizing eyes. "So where you from?"

Jemma swallowed her bite of her salad before she replied, "Sheffield. You?"

"London." Jemma nodded and allowed the silence to fall over both of them as it looked as though Lance wanted to say something else. "So... Inspector for the CID, huh? Talk about a strange place for someone like you to want to work. Why'd you pick this job?"

Her smile came off a shade sadder than she had hoped. "Don't think I'm cut out for it, do you?"

Hunter hesitated before Jemma could see a look pass on his face that screamed, ' _fuck it! she asked!_ '

"I've had a few so, sorry if this comes off a bit harsh but after what happened yesterday, could you blame me?" he snorted. "Bloody hell, I doubt anyone would say you were."

Jemma shrugged. "Sybil's aptitude test had me well over the PSB's employment standards."

"Exactly! That's what I don't get. The standards for the PSB are top tier, so your rankings must have qualified you for other careers too. You must have had a multitude of different avenues you could have chosen but you chose to work here."

Jemma hesitated. "That's true. In fact, I got an A-ranking for every single job in the career spectrum."

Hunter's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

She nodded slowly, "But with all the other jobs, I wasn't the only one to get an A ranking. There was at least one other person that got the same grade." She took a small bite of her salad before continuing, "That is except here. I was the only one who scored an A-ranking for the PSB. There were more than 500 students graded. So I figured there must have been some job I was meant to do here; something only I could do." She pushed around a cherry tomato in the dressing that pooled at the bottom of her plate before spearing it with her fork, watching the orange red juice stain with the off-white dressing. "I thought my life would make sense if I took a job here. That I would be able to understand what my purpose in this crazy universe was..." she trailed off when she noticed how quiet Hunter had gotten and looked up to see him scowling at her. 

"What?" Jemma demanded, "Did something I say  _offend_  you?"

"Oh, that's right? I'm just a bloke who doesn't have feelings now, is it?" Lance whined sarcastically. He snorted and sat back taking a deep pull of his drink before slamming it down and glared across the table at her. "Talk about fucking first world problems! You could have had any job you wanted, chosen any kind of life there is a person could live. Probably agonized over all your options, like you're one of those people from back before Sybil was created. Let me tell you something, princess - a piece of free knowledge - most suckers nowadays get pegged into whatever job the Sybil System thinks they're right for." He was getting really worked up now and the few people who were in the vicinity to them were starting to stare.

"And yet here you are, with all the options in the world, getting your knickers in a twist about making sense of your life and finding your purpose in the universe. Do you hear yourself when you speak?" Lance fumed. 

"You know how I ended up here? I got flagged in a Psycho-Pass test when I was  _five_  and labelled as a latent criminal ever since. Not even capable of rehabilitation. I got two choices when I got old enough to hold a gun: become a hunting dog for the PSB or live for the rest of my sorry arse life in the four white walls of Her Majesty’s Pleasure. _That's_ why I'm here. So pardon my language when I say you've got a piss poor reason for being here."

"Are you done?" Jemma asked patiently.

She could see the tension leaving his shoulders. "Yes."

"You sound like you really needed to get that off your chest."

"Don't patronize me, Simmons!" He grounded out tiredly.

"I'm not." she assured him calmly. "You just seemed like... you really needed to blow off some steam. Do you feel better?" 

Hunter grimaced but eventually admitted, "Yeah."

"Good. Now, I'm not going to be able to finish all this. Would you like my pudding?" Jemma asked.

"Yes, please."  

* * *

 

Grant's eyes took a few moments to adjust to the florescent lights above and immediately felt the presence of someone else in the room. 

He looked over and saw a tall house plant on his bedside table. ' _A snake plant?_ ' 

What was even more surprising than that was the person sitting in the chair next to the bed.

“I'm sorry...”

“You don't see many Inspectors apologizing to their Enforcers.” Grant muttered, mostly to himself.

“You must be so cross with me.” Jemma said dejectedly.

“It was your call to make. Not my place to question your judgment.” he replied.

“But my call... my  _judgment_  caused the other night to end in complete shambles. Not to mention placing all of you in terrible danger.” she trembled. Her shoulders sagged even more when Grant didn't say anything immediately.

Despite brushing it off last night, Hunter's question still loomed over her like the imaginary knife that hung over Macbeth. ' _Why did I decide to become an Inspector? Why am I here...?_ '

She honestly didn't know.

“Don't even get me started on the Westfield incident yesterday...” Jemma bemoaned.

Grant raised an eyebrow. “You were the on-duty Inspector?”

She nodded. “Agent May and I took the case.”

Grant hummed. “So, I'm sure it went down without a hitch. May's a pro like that.”

Jemma wrinkled her nose before amending her previous statement, “More like Agent May took care of it and I stood there looking like a complete fool.” Jemma stared down at her balled up fists in her lap and finally realized that her nails were digging into her palms. She released the tension in her hand and saw small angry crescent shaped imprints on her otherwise unmarred pink skin and closed her eyes in despondency, "She was amazing. So strong and _sure_ of herself. Like her job - and, I suppose to some extent, her life - had purpose. That what she was doing made sense." Jemma snorted, "I only ever felt that way in a laboratory. But in the field... I'm completely useless out there."

"That's not true. I'm sure you were quite helpful." Ward insisted as he shifted in his bed. "Most Enforcers can't even show their faces in public without an Inspector by their side."

Jemma rolled her eyes. "But I didn't actually  _do_ anything. Just stood there while Agent May did all the real police work."

Grant furrowed his brows. "That ' _police work_ ' you're talking about comes at a price.” Jemma turned to see his eyes clouding over. “The best way to catch a bad guy is to think like one. It doesn't matter if you're a good guy though. Being able to think like a criminal is about the same as being one to the system. It all registers the same and that's why we've got such a high Crime Coefficient. Thanks to her skills as a legendary peace officer, May's now treated as a dog for the police department."

He turned away, as though in shame. "I've been an Enforcer for a long time now. I'm a hunting dog and I behave like one. Following orders and taking down prey is ingrained in me."

Grant looked down at his hand, the one that would normally hold his Dominator, and sighed in disgust, “My hands only know how to do what they're told. I've always obeyed that gun's orders... and in turn, was able to cross off a lot of latent criminals. I did what I thought was best for society, blindly accepting that idea.

"And then one day, I realized I've stopped thinking about what I was doing all together. It all became perfunctory to me; as natural an act as breathing.”

He was quiet for a moment, as though he was trying to pick the right words to say before chuckling, “I've been such an idiot. I've forgotten entirely what being a detective was suppose to be about." He turned to Jemma as though she had pulled the curtains back on his world and let the sun shine in. "It was supposed to be about protecting people, not hurting them.”

Jemma's eyes widened. “Agent Ward...”

“Thanks for reminding me about why I decided to get into police work in the first place.” A small smile crept onto his face and Jemma was beside herself; he looked so young when he smiled.

“You were right... to stop me that night. You put justice before duty and you made that decision all on your own.” Grant grinned. “Working for a boss like you, I might be able to finally act like a real detective again instead of just taking orders like a dog.”

Jemma's eyes misted over and dipped her head forward to hide her face from behind her short hair. “Thank you.” she whispered.

Grant chuckled. “You don't see many Inspectors thanking their Enforcers either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** sansevieria trifasciata is a snake plant  
> chlorophytum comosum is a spider plant


	2. Toxic Conventions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos. I am so thrilled to see that this has been getting rather positive feedback. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please let me know what you think of it and thank you once again for your continued support. Enjoy.

 

 

> _Life was not meant to be lived alone  
> _ _or felt only in the heart by one.  
> _ _Isolation does unspeakable things  
> _ _– poisonous things – to the mind  
> _ _and the spirit._

 

[  **2 / Toxic Conventions** ]

 

“The vic's 27 year-old David Strom. He was found dead this morning at 4am by his co-workers in the Drone Behavior Inspection Room of the Moriyama Drone factory. Apparently, the drone he was servicing dismembered him.”

Jemma was riding shotgun with Trip as he briefed her on case they had been assigned. She was unconsciously shifting her attention from the case-file in her lap and the reflection of the paddy wagon in the side mirror. Ward had joined up with the rest of the team for the case and was now like a splinter in her mind she just can't shake. ' _Wonder if he's truly fit for active-duty..._ '

Jemma gave her head a little shake. This was not the time to worry about him; she needed to focus on the case. “Could it've been just an accident?”

Trip's normally cheerful face was grim as he drove towards the off-ramp and towards the large building with the name MORIYAMA in bold letter's across the top of the structure. “That's what I thought at first. Then I did a little digging and found out it was the third death at the factory this year. No matter how you slice it, it just doesn't sound right.”

She flipped through the pages of the file and continued reading. “Is this number right? There were only 50 employees working at the company that size?” Jemma's brows furrowed.

“The company is an entirely machine operated enterprise except for the DBI room. It's the only part of the production line that uses human labor. The factory's 50 debuggers work around the clock, doing test runs and safety checks.”

Jemma hesitated, “So these guys work  _and_ live at the factory?”

Trip shrugged. “If the company's quota is a thousand fully tested drones a month, and they want low-worker overhead, keeping them on-site in constant shifts is the only option.”

Jemma looked up at the building that loomed over them as they approached the structure. “Yep, that doesn't sound stressful at all.” She mumbled sarcastically.

Trip smirked, “From what I understand, by installing a sub-routine in a drone before it completes testing, it can make the bot malfunction in a way that looks like an accident.”

“So you're suggesting...”

“First degree murder.” Trip supplied.

Jemma thought for a moment before stating the most practical approach, “Well, it sounds simple enough: we could just round up the lot and check their Crime Coefficients.”

She frowned at the wince that took over Trip's face. “Oh, if it only was that simple. The building's structure is built as an anechoic chamber. The walls absorb reflections of both incoming and outgoing sounds and EM waves.”

Jemma stared at him as though he grew a second head. “Meaning the  _entire_  facility is off-line?”

“Not even an old Ethernet cord in sight.”

The Englishwoman stared at the building, baffled. If that were her, she surely would have welcomed death by murderous drone with open arms.

Trip turned to Jemma when they parked the car and saw a very serious man in a dark suit and sunglasses waiting for them at the entrance into the facility.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention: Chief Coulson will be accompanying us on the case.” Trip smiled when he saw the a sickening look pass on Jemma's face. “If you ask me, he's here more for himself than anything else. I'm sure he gets tired just doing desk work all day. Relax; it's no big deal.”

' _Easy for you to say..._ ' Jemma thought as she began gnawing at her lips, a habit she's carried into adulthood from when she was nervous as a child.

Everyone greeted Coulson lightly enough when they got there, Skye being the most receptive to his presence. He smiled at Jemma as she approached the group and offered his hand. “You must be Inspector Simmons.”

“It's nice to finally meet you, Chief Coulson.” Jemma replied with a warm smile.

“Ah! Not yet. Pirece still holds the position and I'm not fighting him for it any time soon. I'm just another field agent like you.” Coulson replied humbly. “Senior Inspector if you have to... just never to my face.” he joked.

Jemma chuckled as she breathed a sigh of relief to find his easy-going personality had quelled her anxious stomach. “Sounds good, sir.”

“Alright, team. Shall we?”

She, Trip, and the Enforcers followed Coulson's lead and gathered around the lobby as the public liaison came up to them with the factory foreman.

“Mr. Coulson, detectives! Thank you so much for coming.” the liaison said with a false smile even Jemma could detect.

Coulson gave a polite one in return. “It's fine. Would you mind showing us where the body was found?”

The portly liaison chuckled. “You don't waste any time do you, Mr. Coulson?”

The senior Inspector shrugged. “What can I say? I'm eager to get home to watch the game.”

There were chuckles all around, but it felt too big for casual joke. “Of course, right this way.”

They walked through the sleek halls of the factory and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. There, the sliding door lead into the observatory room, overlooking the Drone Behavior Inspection floor.

“In this factory, machines build machines, but for the final checkout, we believe humans can and should be a decisive role in the drone's qualification. Can't deny it though; it's dangerous work.”

Jemma piped up and asked the foreman, “Have you observed the pace of the work having any kind of strain on your debuggers?”

The foreman hesitated, “From time to time. It's a very demanding occupation and doesn't allow much time for relaxing like an office job. With no internet, workers don't have distractions, but they also don't have diversions. We may be cut off from the outside world, but we're also a hundred percent secure from hacking.”

' _So I've been informed_ ,' Jemma thought.

"Is it just me or is it super creepy to be isolated like a Tibetan monk in this day and age?" Hunter groused. Skye had to cough to suppress her giggle.

They walked out onto the main floor and towards an area tucked away in the corner. Large gashes in the concrete floor and metal sheeting of the wall were evidence enough that the attack happened there.

That is, if the residual smudges of what looked to be blood didn't give it away.   

"A clean up drone removed the body during the initial response." the foreman explained, "Here's the recording taken off the drone's scanner."

He pulled a disk from his pocket and handed it Skye. She walked over to the weapons carriage and plugged it in. The weapons carriage took a moment to scan the disk before projecting the recording as a 3-D laser image over the site where the body was found.

The eerie green glow and the dismembered pieces of Mr. Strom made Jemma's iron stomach curl faintly. 

She crouched forward and quickly read the clean-up drone's annotations around the body. "This amount of blood and the marks on his limbs indicate that Mr. Strom was alive as the attacking drone ripped him apart."

"Nasty piece of work..." Trip murmured.

Skye turned to the foreman and asked, "Did Mr. Strom have any conflicts or problems with other workers?"

He shook his head. "No, he got along with everyone, and they with him. And his Psycho-Pass was clean. It  _had_  to have been an accident." The foreman concluded resolutely.

"If three dismemberment deaths are what you call _accidents_ , you should probably have your employees watch more workplace safety videos." May retorted.

The liaison stepped in then. "Like we said, this is not easy work. The debuggers accept the risks of the job. We appreciate that you have concerns about this factory's safety practices, but please relay them at another time to the appropriate plant administrators."

Jemma quickly turned to Trip. "Should we inspect the attacking drone for any alterations to machine's settings?" If the tension hung there for a moment longer, Jemma was sure it would cut off her breathing. 

"I'm already having it sent to headquarters. Bobbi'll be analyzing it for us but early word is not to expect much. According to Fitz, the drone's memory cells were destroyed." He ejected the disk and carefully handed it to Skye. "For now, I need you to upload this recording to HQ."

"Sure," she took and quirked an eyebrow up at him, "What about you?" 

"I have a few words I would like to speak to the liaison about some alternative methods of investigating this case." Trip replied cryptically.

* * *

 

The liaison's personal office was large and opulent, to say the least. There were three oversize television screens with constant feeds of the company's surveillance footage on display, a grand oak desk, and a state of the art computer set-up atop it. It seemed a bit much for a company liaison. 

"Here you are." The liaison handed Trip the disk in his hand. "This should help you complete your investigation, agent. The results of our own periodic check-ups and well as Hue assessments conducted by building scanners." 

"Thank you. This should be very useful." Trip replied as he uploaded the contents of the data into his tablet via bluetooth. 

"You can take a magnifying glass to the files, I'm sure you still won't find any worker's Psycho-Pass ever routinely exceeded his regulated value. If you're still believe that one of our employees is a murderer, I don't know which worker would even be your suspect."

"Well, we won't know for sure until we run this data through the Sybil System for analysis." Jemma replied quickly. She hardly wanted to step on anyone's toes, especially with the Senior Inspector there. 

"Unfortunately, that takes time." Trip added before he side-eyed the liaison, "Unless, you're okay with using something unorthodox on your workers."

"And that would be?"

Jemma watched Trip tread carefully with his next few words. "Our Dominators. If you'll allow us to assemble your workers outside the anechoic buildings, we can use the devices to check them right now." Trip suggested.

The liaison frowned, "But that would mean we'd have to suspend operations for hours!"

Jemma couldn't just stand by any more and just let this man stand int he way of their investigation. She calmly (but firmly) said, "Sir, people's lives are at stake here. This would be a logical answer to all our problems."

The public liaison stared at her, in what Jemma could only describe as defiance, before turning away to scowl at the surveillance footage. "If you can find solid evidence that Strom's death is a murder, we will cooperate fully with the investigation. We're not in business of protecting criminals, after all."

' _Just yourselves,_ ' Jemma thought. 

"But until then, we must assume that this was nothing more than a tragic accident." He turned to Senior Inspector Coulson then and stated firmly, "And need I remind you, to interrupt this plant's production would require not only that evidence, but also a signed order from the Minister of Economy himself. And from what I hear, that will not be easy."

Coulson looked as though he might say something but instead nodded and turned to leave the room. The conversation was apparently over. 

* * *

 

"Bloody hell. You would think people would be less pigheaded when you're trying to investigate a murder that happened in their company!" Jemma complained the moment Chief Coulson walked off to request a meeting room so that they could set up a temporary base while they were investigating the factory. 

Hunter laughed. "I'd assumed you've read the file on this, Ma'dam Inspector. This is a government factory under the Ministry of Economy. These kinds of places will do just about anything to protect their profit margins. They don't want people like us from the outside going in and meddling with their affairs and causing a drop in productivity."

"Even at the cost of one of their own being murdered?" Jemma protested.

"That's why they prefer to chalk this up as an accident and sweep it under the rug as soon as possible." Ward said as he eyed some of the employees who stared at them wearily as they walked by. 

Jemma frowned on that and halfheartedly suggested, "Well, let's hope it truly is just an accident like they claim. Besides, their scanners never detected anyone dangerous."

"It wasn't an accident," both Ward and Hunter said simultaneously. 

They looked at each other in annoyance before Ward continued to explain, "Those scanners aren't perfect. In fact, the best they can manage is a quick Hue Check of a person's stress level."

Jemma nodded at that. She figured the best way to know a potential suspect's full mental state for sure was to use a cymatic scan data and then run a dedicated analysis through the Sybil System. 

As though Ward was following her thinking, he responded with sigh, "Too bad there's always a wait list for it. Unless our Dominators find something, then no matter whose ahead of us, we can jump to the front of the line and receive an analysis." he pulls out his Dominator from the weapons carriage and grimaced, "These buildings really do block all radio waves. As long as we're in here, these Dominators might as well be scarp iron." Jemma figured he didn't like going somewhere with a potential killer running amok without a way to arm himself. 

"Nothin' but fancy lookin' paperweights." Hunter muttered as he placed the one he picked up, back into the weapons carriage. "Not all that comforting since you know... killer out there that can control a trigger happy robot... wonder what his motive was."

Jemma looked over and saw Ward deep in thought. "What is it Agent Ward?"

"It may be too early to tell... but from what we saw of the recording and the degree of how gruesome Strom's death was, my gut tells me it's some kind of grudge." he said as they walk into the mess hall. 

They picked up their food and found a secluded table in the back. Hunter immediately dug in as Jemma tried not to notice what Ward was eating.

It was a sandwich and coffee. No garnish, just the necessities to nourish himself so that he could continue with his work. She took a bite of her biscuit and built some theories as to what kind of sandwich a man like Grant would prefer (not what he what he actually order because that was all the mess hall had to offer by way of sandwich options). 

"Food's good but this place is just sad." Hunter mumbled with a mouth-full of food, "I'm getting bummed out just thinking about the idea of being cut off and completely isolated like this."

Jemma pulled her tablet out and started browsing the factory's database of Hue Checks and was stumped by what she saw. "If it's as bad as we think it might be, how is it that everyone's Hues are so stable?"

"Hey, don't underestimate people's ability to entertain themselves!" he said with a chuckle.

Her mounting frustrations with what was going on at the factory only grew more vexing when she saw the foreman approach the table. "How's it going, detectives? Has you inspection turned up any promising leads?"

"No, sir. Everything is normal according to your-"

A loud crash drew everyone's attention. A group of factory employees were hustling one of their own co-workers. The man in his mid-thirties, was probably not as small as he appeared but it was hard to tell when he was cowering on the floor with his food scattered all over the ground. 

"Are you going to just stand there and not do anything about your employee's behavior." Jemma prompted the foreman who stared at he incident with a blasé look on his face. 

"Oh, that. He'll be fine. Harmless teasing."

The table was stunned. Even Hunter looked offended by the scene. 

"What?" 

"Oh, no need to worry yourselves, detectives; this happens to him all the time. Since the guys here aren't allowed any contact with the outside world on shift, teasing someone is the best way to let off steam and get their minds off things for a bit." The foreman casually replied. 

"That's barbaric, " Jemma retorted. "Your practices can't possibly be condoned. That poor man's Psycho-Pass-"

"If his Psycho-Pass ever becomes a problem, I can assure you that we will relocate him to another section of the factory. We take our employee's mental health very seriously." the foreman replied with seriousness. He puffed his chest up and watched the scene play out as though he were meditating. It made Jemma immediately loose her appetite. "By allowing this, he is helping the morale of the company. For all we know, Sybil might have recommended he work here because he's naturally suited to his kind of whipping boy role." 

Ward was practically shaking next to Jemma, but his voice was calm and collected when he spoke. "And someone like you, who's quick to laugh off abuse, must be naturally suited to a job like this." He glared at the man as though he were imaging how he might take the guy into a secluded room and beat the ever loving shit out of him. "Sybil _always_ gets it right." he mocked.

Grant pushed his chair back roughly and walked over to the man who was picking up his fallen burger and putting it back together on his plate. "You okay there?" he said and offered his hand. 

The man (his tag read "Terrance") looked up at Ward, as though he were questioning if this were some kind of sick trick. The sight made Jemma cringe. 

"Yeah. Thanks." Terrance mumbled. He picked up the tray of soiled food and disappeared out of the mess hall. 

Jemma walked up to Grant and saw the death glares he was sending the rest of the factory workers, even the ones that were sitting and just observing the abuse and furrowed her brows. "Ward? Are you alright?"

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Jemma could have sworn she heard him mutter something under his breath like, "I hate bullies..."

* * *

 

They gathered in one of the meeting rooms Coulson managed to arrange for them to use and immediately got down to analyzing all the data they were able to acquire. 

"If the files the company's liaison gave us are accurate, there's only one employee here who's Hue Check slowly worsens over time. And every time it changes, that guy gets transferred to another part of the factory to stabilize." Trip said as he stood in front of the projection. "That said, it's been nearly a year since his last transfer."

"Well, hold on. Didn't the file say that the first debugger's death happened about a year ago?" Jemma asked.

"Exactly. And the same man for the last year has been the target of that twisted bullying campaign you guys were talking about. The data we got here leaves no doubt about it." Trip said. 

Skye pulls up the history of all the employee's Hue Checks and shakes her head. "I see a big board of clear colored Psycho-Passes," and gets up to point at one of the names on there with black murky lines running through the greenish-yellow bar indicating his mental health. "and then there's  _this_  guy."

When she double tapped on his company profile, his picture came up on the big screen; Jemma, Hunter, and Grant recognizes the face immediately.

It was Terrance. 

"Terrance Malory. Is anyone actually surprised?" Ward grumbled. 

"Yeah but look there," Hunter pointed out, "seems like his color's improving already."

"Yeah," Ward crossed his arms over his chest before he said, "but the Hue looked to have been the most cloudy the day before Strom died." 

There was a silence that fell over the room as Jemma tried to grasp to what he was implying. "It doesn't work like that! The color of a person's Psycho-Pass doesn't just improve after they've committed murder."

May finally spoke up. "Don't forget that you can see this theory at work when the other debuggers relieve their stress by bullying on Terrance." she looked at the screen and then back at everyone else, "Back before we had cymatic scans, desperate people getting pushed past their breaking points and committing crimes wasn't uncommon-"

"That's enough, May!" Coulson thundered. Jemma's eyes widened at his outburst when so far, up until that moment, Coulson had been passively observing the other's. "We're not here to speculate from circumstantial evidence; we are not here to point fingers based on _gut feelings_. It's that kind of paranoia and aggression that got you all flagged as latent criminals! We need to maintain an orderly society by using Sybil as an impartial judge of the Crime Coefficients." He gave every single person in the room a hard look. "Trust the system."

"Sir, you crow about orders and yet we're still here investigating three dead people." Ward argued. Coulson did  _not_  look happy about that one bit. "With your permission, sir, I would like to look into Terrance Malory. If there's hard evidence, I  _will_  find it." 

"That's enough, Ward." Trip warned. 

A heavy silence fell over the room before Jemma lightly cleared her throat.

"Sir?" she piped up, "Could I have a word with you outside, please?"

Coulson paused a moment before getting up and walking outside. 

Once in the hallway, Jemma began without preamble. "I agree with the Enforcers." Jemma saw a quiet storm rage beneath his cool demeanor and quickly continued, "If going by the book meant ignoring certain possibilities, I'd rather try Agent Ward's plan."

"That's out of the question." Coulson firmly stated. 

"Why are you ignoring the signs? Any good detective would see that there's something clearly not right here!" Jemma demanded. "Did something happen between you and Agent May for you to be-"

Jemma tapered off when she saw the murderous look on Coulson's face. "Uhm... I mean... that is- I was just-"

"You are treading a slippery slope, Simmons. If this is the path you are determined to take, I won't stop you. But be aware that all it takes is one slip up;  _once_  is enough for you to fall and never come back from the other side." Coulson emphasized. "I would weigh the consequences of blindly following a dog's nose. You might end up with more than you bargained for." With that he walked back in and adjourned the meeting and stated that he'll be heading back to headquarters as it seemed that everything here was taken care of. 

* * *

 

They were all outside setting up a relay tower to pick up a stronger signal for their Dominators when Jemma turned to ask Skye, "Did something... happen between Agent May and Agent Coulson?"

Hunter laughed, "For the love of all thing holy, please tell me you didn't  _actually_  ask the Senior Inspector that to his face, Simmons!"

Skye's face turned grim as she looked up from her laptop at her wearily. "We... don't talk about that.  _Ever_."

Jemma was about to ask Skye to elaborate herself (because quite frankly she was getting tired of the rookie treatment!) when Ward placed down two large bundles of thick electrical wires. "There's about 670 feet of communication cables." he said as he looked at where the paddy wagon was parked and the building. "Looks like the furthest that'll reach is the service elevator hall on the second floor." 

Trip raised an eyebrow. "You sure you can lure Malory up there?"

Ward shrugged. "Nope, but I'm certainly gonna try." There was a glint of something in Ward's eyes when he said that that Jemma couldn't really name.

It made him look... excited? dangerous? excited in the face of danger? It wasn't an emotion that she wanted to associate with Ward (mostly because, when he's around, it made her feel oddly safe) but it was the closest thing she could use to describe him at that exact moment.

Even if he should step out of line though, she was accompany him as he executes his plan to get's Malory to follow them into range of the cables so that they can scan him with Dominators, so she shouldn't have to be worried that he'll be stepping out of line. "So... we're just going to talk to him, right?" Jemma asked hopefully.

He didn't say anything at first and turned to the weapons carriage in deep thought. “Yeah...”

* * *

 

They tracked Malory on the surveillance cameras and found that he sought refuge in the men's restroom of the sixth floor in the plant's main building.

“Stay here. This should only take a minute.” Ward assured her as he stepped into the restroom. Jemma waited outside anxiously and within seconds her suspicions were confirmed.

A loud bang from inside the restroom had Jemma throwing the door open to see Grant dragging Malory's cowering body out of one of the stalls by the scruff of his shirt.

“So this is where you've been hiding, you coward!" Grant shouted at him as she roughly threw him to the ground. "Do your meals taste better after you killed someone?"

Jemma stared stunned at his tactics and was about to intervene but then he spoke the words that reminded her why they were doing this.

"Aaron Voit, Samuel Collins, Daniel Strom. Three dead this year!" Grant got right up in Terrance's face and sneered at him, "Your handy work, isn't it?!"

"What?" Terrance trembled. "Why-why would you think that?"

"Lucky for you, as long as you stay in this place, we can't prove that you're a murderer. But let me tell you something, Terrance, once I get a gut feeling about someone..." Then that same look crossed Grant's face. It was a look of slight hysteria mixed with a cocky blend of bravado and ruthlessness. "Well, let's just say we Enforcers take pleasure in pushing around other latent criminals. First, I'm gonna keep you trapped in this hellhole of a factory, so you have no where to run. Then, my pals and I are gonna put the word out on the Net that Terrance Malory is a serial killer with a clouded Psycho-Pass."

"Please..." Terrance begged, "Don't!"

Grant feigned looking down at his CID bracelet and cursed. "Damn it. I'm out of service range in here. Oh, well, guess I'll have to go out front for a bit. You stay in here on your knees, trembling and crying like an infant, and I'll get started on bringing a three-time murderer to justice!"

Terrance didn't wait for Grant to finish his little declaration. he hauled ass out of that bathroom and pushed past Jemma, sprinting down the hall as fast as he could. 

Jemma rounded on Grant. "Really? Are you  _always_  this reckless?"

Grant smirked, "Got the job done, didn't it?"

"Yes, but at what cost?" Jemma argued. She watched in horror as he didn't seem fazed by the fact that he is now in serious danger. "He's going to kill you, Ward! Does that not bother you in the sligh-"

"Simmons, this is the fastest way to find out for sure if Malory is our killer. He doesn't have time to prepare an elaborate plan, so if he _is_  going kill me, he'll have to do it in the exact same way he did with Strom." Grant said confidently as he causally walked in the direction that Terrance ran to. "And when he makes his move, we'll have our proof."

"You are completely insane, you know that?"

"And if he's not a murderous nut - which I doubt - we'll both walk out of here without a scratch on us." Grant said before throwing a careless glace at her over his shoulder, "So Inspector, which side of the coin are you betting on?"

"I-" Jemma didn't get a chance to answer when two rogue drones with very large claws came skidding out from one end of the darkly lit hallway, a crazed Malory riding atop one them.

"This is all your fault!" Malory wailed hysterically. "Once I'm done killing the two of you, my Hue will become clean again!"

"Well, looks like we got our answer." Grant said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the stairs. "Run!"

Jemma could hardly catch up with Grant's long legs as they sprinted down the hall at top speeds and was relieved when the door for the stairwell finally came into view. Grant flung the door open and pulled Jemma in first just the drone caught up with them. Grant stepped over the threshold and Jemma was able to breath again as they watched the large robot struggled to reach them with it's clawed arm as its body was stuck in the doorway. 

Grant pulled her along down the steps. "Come on!" he urged. "Let's go."

The faint echos of Malory's wails were only drowned out by the sound of a plasma beam cutting through concrete; he must be making his  _own_  way down, Jemma thought frantically. "Why did you have to gamble with our lives just to prove a point to Coulson?" Jemma bemoaned. 

"It's not about proving a point, Inspector, it's about getting justice for the dead. Sometimes, when you want to uncover the truth, you have to be willing to risk everything for it."

They were both breathing heavily when they finally reached the second floor, the service elevator in sight. "We made it." Grant said, slightly winded.

"Yes, but Skye and Hunter aren't here with the weapon's carriage yet and-" she didn't have to say anymore. They looked up and saw the the hot metal plating on the ceiling melting and knew they were out of time. Any second now, Malory and his whacked out drones were going to be here and Jemma and Grant were completely unarmed. 

Just when the hole was half way cut, the squeal of tires on the linoleum floor tiles made Jemma nearly rejoice as she saw Skye and Hunter clinging to the weapons carriage as it barreled down the hallway towards them. The bright blue glow of the Dominator came online in Skye's hand. "Ward! Catch!" 

Grant turned to see the Dominator soar through the air towards him and caught it in his hand just as the drone with Malory riding on it jumped down from the third floor. "Now you die!" He shouted as he brought down the drone's clawed arm on Grant's head. 

Just then Hunter drove the weapons carriage right between Malory's drone and the second robot that he had accompanying him. Malory lost nearly lost his balance on the machine and swung down the bot's crane arm down haphazardly.The metal claw scarped on the floor right where Grant was standing, forcing him to jumped back and refocus his Dominator on Malory. The gun appraised the target and set itself to a non-lethal setting. The moment Grant shot Malory and Jemma watched his body tumble to the ground, she had suspected it was all over. 

But the unmanned drone simply turned back to Grant and proceeded to attack him again.

"Grant! Watch out!" Jemma shouted. She shouldn't have worried though; it was clear that Ward knew exactly what he was doing. The arm of the bot barely grazing his cheek as he leapt out of the way and swiveled to the other side of the drone. With a predatory smirk, Grant lifted his arm and the Dominator reassessed the threat and set the weapon to Eliminator mode. He aimed it and fired at the drone before turning to the other bot that Hunter was taking care of. "Hunter! Duck!" Hunter was barely able to jump out of the way with the weapons carriage when Grant fired the second round, leaving the two bots in a smoldering pile of scrap metal.

Skye ran over to check on Malory's vitals as Hunter patted the weapons carriage like a pet. Jemma turned to watch Ward and thought to herself how strange he looked tonight. It was as though he was riding that adrenaline high and couldn't keep the smile off his face. 

' _He said he didn't want to be just some hunting dog, that he wanted to be a detective,_ ' Jemma thought as they moved Malory's body to the paddy wagon and everyone headed out of the factory. ' _but the look in his eyes that night was that of a wolf who had its prey by the neck and couldn't wait to the taste blood._ '

As they loaded up the equipment they used for the makeshift relay tower, Jemma was still holding onto the Dominator that Ward had used as he talked to Trip. 

"Agent Ward?" Jemma asked as Trip walked away, leaving them alone. 

"Yeah?" He looked tired when he turned towards her. He was rubbing some type of ointment on his cheek where a bruise was slowly starting to form. She had to bite back an offer to help him in his medical treatment. She shook her head quickly before she carefully asked, "The other night... if you had been given more time to assess the situation, you would have done everything in your power to not have to shot Linda Martin, correct?"

That gave him pause. 

The frown that grew on his face was not a good sign either. "To be honest, I don't know. I didn't question it at the time." He shrugged, as though he didn't want to really talk about it anymore and yet still stood there in front of her, as though he couldn't help himself. "I just kept thinking, 'I can't die. I can't die here. Not like this, not yet. I still have unfinished business- _I can't die yet_!'" He grounded out. There was desperation in his voice that chilled Jemma to her core. His hands had balled into a tight fist and his knuckles were bone white when Jemma reached forward and lightly touched his hand.

As if he remembered himself, he pulled away from her and muttered, "You better get going. Don't wanna keep Trip waiting."

He walked off leaving Jemma more confused than ever.

* * *

 

A few days later, Jemma found herself watching May do Tai Chi on the terrace of the CID floor. Her movements did little to calmed her mind as she was constantly brought back to what Grant had said that night at the factory. 

"May?"

Without halting her movements, she replied firmly, "No." 

Jemma protested, "But I didn't-" 

"No."  she repeated.

"All I wanted to ask was-" she was met with a hand in her face. 

"No."

Jemma pouted. She was really hoping she was making headway with May but she barely knew how to get a handle on any of the Enforcers, she really shouldn't take it personally when she couldn't crack the Calvary (at least, that's what everyone calls her. Strangely not in front of her).

And yet, right as she was about to hunt down Skye, May quietly said, "If you really want to understand Ward the only way to do it is to see things the way he does, think like he does. And if you do that, you'll find yourself in the dog pound with the rest of us." May's movements looked so effortless and fluid as she spoke. " _Gaze into the abyss and the abyss also gazes into you_. Ward stared into the darkness for too long... so long, I'm not sure he knows how to look away."

"You sound like you speak from experience." Jemma pointed out. 

May didn't respond to that. Instead she continued her Tai Chi movements before finally saying with a sigh, "He's convinced that the only place justice truly exists is within the depths of that darkness. If you really feel the need to dive in after him, that's your call."

When she didn't say anything else, Jemma figured that was her cue to leave. Rising up from where her bum had gone numb from sitting on the stool that she brought out with her, she picked it up and was about to head inside when May said quietly, “I tried to help him, you know.”

Jemma turned to see May still facing away from her. She imagined her face was placid as it usually was - cool and calm, like her well practiced movements - but her voice belied a sadness Jemma had not known May carried with her. “I tried to give him the tools to keep that anger in check, to quell that raging beast that comes from having experience a great loss. I suppose some people are beyond saving…”

"No." 

It was May’s turn to look surprised as she raised a single eyebrow in question over her shoulder at Jemma and saw the young Inspector smiled serenely. 

"No one is beyond saving."

Whether Jemma was talking about Ward or May herself, she wasn't entirely sure.


	3. Magnum Opus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AN** :  
> \- Spoiler warning as usual for Psycho-Pass. This is a re-write as usual but this chapter in particular is where the story is going to deviate from the anime; the great divide begins in this chapter.  
> \- There are some very graphic depictions of disturbing imagery throughout this chapter so please be weary of that.  
> \- This chapter was suppose to be A LOT longer but I decided to cut it off here because I was only half way done with it and the story was already at 12 pages so you'll get the second half of the chapter soon.  
> \- Other than that, let me know what you think of it. Thank you so much for the constant support and kind words. It truly is the fire that keeps me going! Enjoy!

[  **3 / Magnum Opus** ]

 

"Looks like she’s working hard." Senior Inspector Coulson said to Trip as he pulled up Jemma’s evaluation on his computer.

"Due to Agent Simmons' inexperience, she doesn't have a firm grasp of her priorities yet but she’s still an excellent employee." Trip commented to his superior officers. "I think she has a bright future with the PSB, sir."

"I certainly hope that’s true. Her exit exam scores were impressive to say the least and she has two PhDs in fields I can’t even pronounce." Coulson said as he turned his attention back to Trip. "Of course, there’s always a chance she could wind up going down the path of your former partners who started the same year here as you did."

Trip tried not to sound bristled when he replied. “Yes, sir. That is a possibility.”

Coulson turned in his chair to look out over the tall buildings that rose around the PSB headquarters and evenly said, “You Inspectors have very demanding jobs. Even as you face the deviant and distorted minds of all of those criminals and Enforcers out there, you must maintain the unyielding spirit needed in pursuit of carrying out your duties effectively as an Inspector.” 

The Senior Inspector rose from his chair and gave Trip a hard look. “Be vigilant, Agent Triplett. Psycho-Hazards can happen to anyone of us and I am tired of loosing good agents to the other side.”

* * *

 

“ _A blank, my lord. She never told her love,_  
 _But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud,_  
 _Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought,_  
 _And with a green and yellow melancholy_  
 _She sat like patience on a monument,_  
 _Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?_  
 _We men may say more, swear more, but indeed_  
 _Our shows are more than will, for still we prove_  
 _Much in our vows, but little in our love._ ”

"You can stop there, Callie, thank you," the literature instructor said. "The first known performance of Twelfth Night took place in 1602. Yet the verse Miss. Hannigan just read aloud, gives us a glimpse of the enduring universality of Shakespeare’s works…"

A silent text popped up on Callie’s phone and she could not help but smile lovingly when she saw who had sent her the text.

[  **text from** _Rebecca_ ] Are you in Literature right now?

Callie picked up her phone and discretely replied.

[  **text from** _Callie_ ] Yep. We’re studying Twelfth Night right now. 

[  **text from** _Rebecca_ ] Shakespeare’s comedies are so dull. 

[  **text from** _Callie_ ] You’re not a fan of his work?

[  **text from** _Rebecca_ ] I do like his tragedies. Especially Macbeth and Titus Andronicus.

[  **text from** _Callie_ ] So those two are the interesting ones, huh?

[  **text from** _Rebecca_ ] Not only are they interesting but they’re exceptionally cruel.

Callie blushed prettily at the words and thought lovingly that Becca was so fashionably macabre.

* * *

 

The interrogation room was silent saved for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the wheezing breath of Terrance Malory.

Jemma stood next to Trip and watched from the observation room through the one-way mirror mentally taking notes of Alphonso “Mack” Mackenzie not only because he was an Inspector had a way with getting through to people, but also because he’s been helping Fitz out in the engineering lab and her best friend just would not shut up about him. 

Jemma might or might not be curious as to just  _how_  good Agent Mackenzie was.

So far, Mack hadn't done anything since he walked into the room. He was just leaning against the wall on the other side of Malory with his arms crossed over his expansive chest as he looked to be sizing up the man in silence.  

Finally, just as Jemma was sure that Malory would snap, Mack casually spoke, “Twitchy fella aren’tcha?” 

Jemma was not expecting that. 

He finally pushed away from the wall and placed his hands in his pockets, as he casually paced the length of the room. “Did you know there are about millions of things that humans are capable of but animals aren't?” He didn't wait for Malory to answer but just continued right on talking, “One of those things is safety control.

"No matter what we create, humans always put a safety mechanism on it. Airbags for cars, emergency exits on planes, smoke alarms and or sprinklers in homes. Hell, even Enforcers are equipped with a safety mechanism in the form of Inspectors.”

He finally stopped pacing in front of Malory and turned to look at him. “And the drones you controlled were furnished with their own set of rigorous security measures. Those drones were supposed to be absolutely safe, and yet, this memory card made them kill people.”

He leaned forward and Jemma thought Malory might faint from the stress. He was sweating bullets in his chair and was shaking like a leaf but Jemma could hardly feel sorry for the guy - he did try to kill her and Ward afterall. “Where did you get that memory card?”

Malory nearly started to wail again, “I swear! It was just sent to me in the mail one day, clear out of the blue!”

"Who sent it to you?"

Malory shook his head frantically, “It wasn’t signed; there was no name on it at all. All it said was that he had a grudge against the factory, so he wanted us to destroy it together!”

"That’s quite vicious," Jemma commented, "Seems this person will kill just for a laugh."

Trip sighed, “What I don’t get is how this guy that sent the letter have predicted that Malory would be susceptible to killing anyone in the first place?”

"Well, May and Ward were able to figure it out just looking at the staff’s periodic checkups. Surely someone else could have done the same thing." Jemma pointed out. 

"How did he get the files though?" Trip wondered aloud as he walked out of the observation room, Jemma following two sets behind him. 

"Could it be… an inside job?" she suggested as they made their way back to the CID offices. "But what would the company gain from this?"

"And who are they giving this information to?" 

They were both deep in thought nearly didn’t even see Bobbi waving at them.

"Hey! You guys alright there?" Bobbi chuckled. 

"Yeah, just trying to wrap our minds around the case," Trip offered before he pointed at the file in her hand, "Tell me that’s good news."

Bobbi sighed, “Wish I could.”

Trip shook his head in disbelief, “Come on, man. Are going ever going to catch a break in this case?” Jemma understood his mounting frustrations. “Well, don’t make me suffer the bad news by myself. You can give the report with everyone else there.”

When they entered and saw that the rest of the team were gathered around watching the interrogation on the monitor. 

Hunter was the first to notice their arrival and sneered, “What the hell is she doing here?”

Bobbi rolled her eyes, “Hey, Hunter.” she said in a deadpan voice. She looked at his disheveled appearance, crumpled dress shirt, and raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “Nice suit.” 

"Two seconds in and there’s already a tone," Lance muttered, "Anyone mind telling me what the bloody hell she’s doing here?"

"Play nice," Trip said even though he was chuckling at their exchange. "Bobbi’s here to deliver the data analysis from the disk we took off of the drones."

"I come baring gifts and this is how I get treated?" Bobbi said, in mock offense before she turned back to the report in her hand, "The safety override program that Malory had put to use at the Moriyama Drone incident left little to no tracing data. There was a this complex firewall that restricted the access of the location and the creator of the original program. There could have been a fail-safe embedded in the programming that destroyed the file if anyone else but the programmer attempted to access its source code."

"So you  _didn’t_  bring anything substantial after all,” Lance groused moodily from his seat. He got a swift smack in the back of the head by May.

Bobbi simply chose to ignore him and his childish antics. “ _Anyway_ , I was only able to recover a small fragment of the source code.”

Skye wondered aloud as she watched Mack leave the interrogation room in the video feed, “I took a peek at those files before Bobbi did and I don’t know why but I have a feeling this programmer may not have started with Malory. He’s too proficient; hell, he could be related to a whole string of seemingly unrelated murders.”

"One battle at a time, Skye," Trip said as he read over the report, “we don’t even know if Malory’s lying or not. For all we know, he could have fabricated that story.”

Skye shook her head in dismay, “Malory may have had some engineering training, probably even worked with computer programs but he doesn’t possess the skills to tamper with a drone that complex. I bet you Malory was being backed by a professional cyber criminal.” 

“So the million dollar question,” Trip sighed, “is what is this hacker’s motive for helping Malory?”

“The Avatar case.” Ward exclaimed. Everyone turned to him with a strange look on their faces except Skye, who looked as though she was about to jump up and hug him.

“Ward? Did you finally give in and watched all 116 episodes of  _The Last Airbender_  and  _Legend of Korra_  that I gave you?” Her eyes were sparkling as she swiveled in her chair to look at him.

Ward glared at her. “No.”

Skye looked offended on behalf of the cartoon series and decided she would eat her sorrows away by stuffing her face with Pocky biscuits pulled out from her snack drawer.

“I was talking about the case that got you benched Bobbi.” Ward said to the blonde.

The other Enforcer blinked at him, “Michaels? No, it couldn’t have been him. Things are wrong with your theory. (1) he  _may_  have been overly obsessed with social networks that he would kill people just to take over their online personas but he didn’t possess the skills necessary to tamper with the  _bomb_  that nearly killed Mack and our team.

“And (2) he’s dead,” Bobbi protested, “We took him down. How can he still be coding from the afterlife?”

“I’m not saying it was Michaels who was the hacker. I’m saying that the hacker found Michaels and Malory because they had the motive. And  _he_  had the means.” Ward proclaimed.

Jemma saw that look in his eyes again. Ward was spiraling. Trip must have caught on to it as well because he stepped forward and told Ward to calm down.

“Intent and motive, Trip,” Ward said zealously, “Engineering a crime by bringing together those two otherwise disparate elements.  _This is all a game to him_.” He pushed past the Inspector and left the office and headed towards the Enforcer quarters.

“I’ll go after him.” Trip said tiredly, “You guys stay here and see if you can find any trace of this hacker.” he called out as he left them to mull in abject confusion and silence.

* * *

 

When Trip arrived at Ward’s room he wasn’t surprised to see the Enforcer hunched over an old box of case files that had been xeroxed and neatly tabbed and highlighted into labeled folders. He had suspected that Ward may be obsessed with this case, but this was getting way out of hand. “Grant-”

“It’s the same guy, Trip.” Ward muttered as he poured over the file in his hand. “Someone out there is providing the means to people who have the desire to kill, but don’t know how. Turning these wannabes into actual murderers.”

Trip sighed exasperatedly, “Stop and think this through. Back then they used a resin. This time, it was a tool for cracking programs. There’s no connection. Look, we’re worried about you. Bobbi doesn’t say it but she is.”

Ward frantically flipped through the files, pulled out and set aside only the pages that he needed as he tried to put his thoughts into words, “The engineer and the middleman are two different people! There’s someone who brings them together. Those who wished to kill and those who can create the weapons they need to pull it off.” He paused on a blurry photo of a man in a dark trench coat, his face was covered in the shadow of his wide brim hat, only a single scar on his chin could be seen. “That’s who we need to find; the mastermind…”

“Grant, you’ve been obsessed for three years over this case! You’ve been chasing a damn ghost, man! One that may never have existed in the first place.” Trip came over and looked down at the picture in his hand, “Look, I get it, okay? Be anyone, they would want to see justice-”

“Tom was going to tell me something that night, Trip,” Ward mourned, “Something  _big_. But that bastard got to him first and I-” He took a deep breath and tried to calm his rage, “I have to do this. For him. That’s what I’ve been working towards for three years, that’s what I lost my title over. I won’t stop until the score has been settled!”

* * *

 

Trip left Ward with his ghosts and walked out into the hallway only to see Jemma was waiting there anxiously.

When she saw him, she rushed forward and sheepishly asked, “Is everything alright with Ward?”

Trip was going to brush it off, tell her that it was handled but he thought better of it; might as well put the cards on the table. Maybe she could do something for his friend that he couldn’t.

“He wasn’t always this way, you know. There was something that happened a couple of years ago. Most of us don’t talk about it because… well, he gets like _that_  every time someone does.” Trip said wearily as he brought his CID bracelet up and unlocked it. He tapped on the screen a few times before he closed it again. Moments later, Jemma felt her own bracelet vibrate and saw that she was sent an e-mail from Trip with an file attachment. “That’s from the Personnel Department. Please delete it when you’re done with it.” He said and walked back towards the offices.

Jemma was confused by Trip’s cryptic words but opened the file nonetheless. It turned out to be a staff profile on Ward.

 **Name** :  _Grant Douglas Ward.  
_ **DOB** _: January 07  
_ **Age** _: 32  
_ **Birthplace** _: Massachusetts  
_ **Gender** _: Male.  
_ **Title** _: Enforcer.  
_ **Previous titles** _: Former Inspector.  
_ **Notes** _: While investigating the previous unsolved PSB Special Case File 102, Agent Ward’s Crime Coefficient rapidly increased. Despite repeated warnings, he prioritized the investigation over treatment. His Crime Coefficient deviated from the regulated value and was thus demoted to Enforcer._ ”

* * *

 

“ _Did you hear about Dalila?”_

“ _Yeah, I heard she’s been missing since last Friday.”_

“ _No, that the teachers never found her at all!”_

“ _I heard she ditched this place for the cute guy she was seeing over the summer.”_

“ _I heard she just vanished after tennis last week!”_

Mary Bragg Academy of International Studies was all abuzz with the disappearance of one of their own. The private school was set up so that they could keep young girls of a susceptible age isolated from society, locked away in a conservatory environment to prevent their Psycho-Passes from getting cloudy. But something was most certainly amiss at this pristine looking school.

“I heard the teachers were ordered to keep silent about anything to deal with Dalila.” Tera whispered, “They’re afraid if they discuss it, then the students will worry.”

Her meek friend, who sat across from her stammered, “D-don’t they know that only makes us worry even more?”

“Well, I’m guessing that’s why they’re not going to address the issue in hopes that it’ll blow over as quickly as possible.” Tera replied. “Not to mention, they have to keep up appearances for the parents.”

“That’s horrible!”

Tera laughed, “You think that’s bad? Apparently, one of the teachers who taught here a few years ago was actually a murderer.”

“What?!”

“I heard he got bored one day and just moved on to another country since no one’s heard of him or his killings ever since.” Tera said in an exaggerated spooky voice.

“Stop teasing me, Tera! You know how I get when you make that voice!”

Tera giggled, “Sorry, Cal.”

“Hey, Callie.”

Tera turned around to see who was calling her friend and saw Rebecca Lucio and her posse of art club lackeys were standing behind her. ‘ _Great_. _The Queen Bee’s here._ ' Tera thought sarcastically.

“Oh, Becca!” Callie said with a light blush on her cheeks. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, I was wondering if we could continue our discussion later this afternoon in the art room?” The art club president said.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Callie replied, slightly breathless. It make Tera roll her eyes.

“Okay, see you then.” Rebecca said, charmingly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked away.

“Wow,” Callie swooned, “Isn’t she just-”

“Freaky? Bizarre?” Tera offered.

Callie looked offended, “How can you say that? She’s  _ethereal_.”

“Yeah, if you’re into creepy type.” Tera shuddered. “It’s her eyes that get me… they just give me the creeps. It’s like she’s dead inside.”

“Those are the eyes of an artist you’re knocking, Tera! For shame! I don’t see how you could think that someone as beautiful as her could be creepy,” Callie protested, “She’s so kind and understanding and intelligent too. She’s a real  _scholar_ , you know?”

“Sure, Callie. What ever floats your boat…”

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, Callie stood anxiously outside  the art club room, fixing her hair. After a final check in her pocket mirror, she knocked on the door and called out, “Becca?”

"Come in."

Callie slide the door open and saw Rebecca sitting on a stool sketching against an easel. “Oh hey, Callie. Thanks for coming.”

"Thanks for offering to listen to me." Callie replied, completely enamored by the look of Becca’s skin that was effervescently glowing in the late afternoon light.

 ”Of course. I am always interested in helping those with a troubled home life.” 

The young girl started to feel tears prick at the corner of her eyes; Callie couldn't help herself. No one at home would listen to her. 

"There, there, Callie. Tell me about what happened." Becca said soothingly, "I promise, you’ll feel better afterwards."

Callie struggled to find the words to describe the anguish she felt inside her, “That man… he’s always looking at me with these disturbing eyes. He would say… indecent things to me.” Callie couldn't stop the tears from flowing now, they kept falling like someone left the water dripping from a faucet, “Every time I go home, I find traces that someone’s been in my room. My undergarments would go missing and it always looks like someone had been sleeping in my bed.”

"And there’s no way you can talk to your mother about this?" Becca asked.

"My father left so much debt behind when he died, that it’d be impossible for my mother to pay it off on her own. So we have to depend on that man…" Callie sobbed. "I feel like… I can’t breath when I go home. I feel like…"

"you’re trapped." Becca offered. "I’m sure your Psycho-Pass must be pretty clouded recently."

Callie gasped, “Yeah… how did you know?”

Becca sighs dramatically, “It feels like you’re not allowed to choose the life you wish you could live. I understand how hard that is. In this day and age the System determines our aptitudes and we have no choice but to live by that and be satisfied with whatever happiness is forced upon us, unable and completely not permitted to make any of our real dreams a reality.”

"Yeah… I do feel that way."

"The person that you long to be, your true worth in this world, I can help you discover that." Becca stepped forward and caressed Callie’s cheek, wiping away a tear in the process, "The beauty that’s hiding inside you, just below the surface."

Callie sighed at Becca’s touch hummed appreciatively when Becca asked her is she would like to hear some of her favorite passages from  _Titus Andronicus_.

 

“ _and he that wounded her…_  
 _Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead:_  
 _For now I stand as one upon a rock_  
 _Environed with a wilderness of sea,_  
 _Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,_  
 _Expecting ever when some envious surge_  
 _Will in his brinish bowels swallow him…_ ”

* * *

 

Jemma was still reeling from finding out that Ward used to be an Inspector (Trip’s partner to be exact). She needed to find out what had happened and what that case was that drove Ward to loosing everything. So she sought out the person that will give her the straightest answer.

"You want to know about Ward?" Hunter asked as he heated up some chicken and pasta for his dinner. "Why are you asking me? Just look it up in the database. You’re an Inspector, you’re authorized request that kind of info."

"Yeah, I know, but if I access those files, Ward will know about it." Jemma said offhandedly as she looked at his large collection of DVDs, half of which looked to have been burned for him by a certain ex-hacker. 

"Is it that you don’t want him to know or is it that you’re seriously concerned about him?" Lance playfully taunted her. "Don’t tell me you’re in love with him."

"What?" Jemma laughed nervously, "Love Ward?" She scoffed, "Don’t be silly! That’s preposterous! Outlandish! I can’t imagine where you’d get such a ridiculous idea!" 

"You do realize that you’re a horribly liar, right?" Hunter pointed out.

Jemma began to re-alphabetize his DVD collection as she rambled on, “Well, I mean, it would be remiss of me not to say that Agent Ward’s physically appealing. He has pleasingly symmetrical features and his body fat ratio is optimal but that’s to be expected since he’s an Enforcer. So, on a purely physical level-“

"Which arm would I have to give you in order for you to stop talking about Ward’s body?" Hunter groused.

Jemma pursed her lips. “The one that’s holding the food.” she smiled sweetly.

He rolled his eyes. “Of course. Come into my place, ask about another bloke, and eat me out of house and home. Yep; that sounds about right.” He said but still placed down the steaming plate of food for her. 

"Thank you for your hospitality," She dug in before asking him, "What about you then? Have  _you_  ever been in love?”

Hunter laughed, “Let me put it this way, Ma’dam Inspector, I am far more experienced in life than you. And not just when it comes to love.” He leaned in close to her and spoke in a husky voice, “I’ve done all sort of bad things.”

"Charming." Jemma drawled sardonically.

"Right, yeah. That came out weird," Lance backed off and took the seat across from her, "Anyway, I’ve ventured into a world so depraved that a wholesome girl like you couldn’t even be able to imagine it."

"I’ve been to Uni. Believe me, I’ve got a pretty good picture of what you’re talking about." 

"I doubt it. Have you tried Lagavulin?" Hunter asked as he pulled out a bottle with a dark liquid inside. 

"It’s just whiskey."

"Just- _just_  whiskey.” Hunter stammered. He watched Jemma shrug before he got up from his seat and walked over to his cabinet and pulled out two coffee mugs. ”I’ll have you know that I only share this with esteemed guests.”

Jemma winced, “Oh… do you have beer? I’m more of a beer girl myself.”

"Just drink it, Simmons." Hunter ordered her. 

“ _Fine_. You don’t have to get all huffy about it.” she muttered as she took a tentative sip. And then another. “Ah. That’s pretty good.”

"Told ya! Now,  _this_  is just the kind of naughty fun that is our privilege and, dare I say it, our duty to enjoy,” Hunter looked at the bottle of alcohol lovingly.

"You know, if you and the bottle would like some privacy," Jemma joked.

"Very funny, Simmons. But I’ll have you know, if you get me drunk enough, I my start talkin’ ‘bout all sorts of things." Hunter admitted as he poured himself some.

"Well, then," Jemma said with a smiled, "won’t you be a dear and top me off?"

Half a bottle later, Hunter was slumped over the back of his chair, slurring and spewing random facts about CID members, while Jemma was blissfully buzzed.

"See, the thing is…" Hunter started as he tried to push himself up to a sitting position, "by the time I came along and transferred to this unit, T-1000 had already been stripped of his Inspector ranking. So I don’t really know all the details. But! … ha,  _butt_ …”

"Hunter, focus!" Jemma chided him. 

"Right, uhm, where was I? Oh yeah! I heard that it all had do with someone Ward knew from his personal life and… something to do with the case he was working on… and… something else. I don’t really remember."

"Did someone get killed?" Jemma asked, pouring herself another round.

"Yeah, I heard it was pretty damn gruesome too," He said. "Some kid named… Toby? Terry? Bobby… I don’t know, something like that. Poor kid was killed the same way as the other victims in the case Ward was working on and that made it personal for him. The whole thing really messed Ward up bad."

"That’s awful," Jemma lamented.

"Yeah, and he never gave up on the case either." Hunter leaned forward and gave Jemma a stage whisper, "You know I give him a lot shit… but you gotta respect the guy! It’s been years since the case went cold, but he refuses to give up on it." Lance hiccuped. "What a great guy, right?”

Jemma giggled and was happy to have that little bit of info to hang over his head, should Hunter get any ideas about telling anyone about her abnormal fascination with a certain stoic Enforcer. 

"Alright, I think you should get to bed." Jemma said as she pulled him up and dragged 

"Nooooo," He whined, as he flapped his arm about.

“ _Hunter_ …” Jemma began.

"Yeah, you’re right. I miss my pillow anyhow." He amended as she dragged him across his living quarters towards what she thinks is his bedroom.

Just as they were walking into the room, Hunter whirled around abruptly and gasped, “You know who you should ask about Grant? Bobbi! She and Grant and Trip go waaaayyy back.” He then proceeded to slump on to his bed.

"Night, Hunter."

"Nite, Mum," he mumbled into his pillow and began to softly snore.

Jemma shook her head with smile and closed the door. “Silly goose.”

* * *

 

After she made sure the plates and cups were in the dishwasher, Jemma gathered her things up to go home for the night. She hummed a little tune as she walked out of Hunter’s place and down the hall towards the elevators when the light from under Ward’s room was still on.

Against better judgment, she started to walk towards his room. Before she could stop herself, Jemma knocked on his door. She slumped against the door frame listening to the movements behind the door.

When he finally opened the door, she was met with a very wet, very shirtless Ward. 

She flushed prettily as a warm feeling washed over her and settled comfortably somewhere low in her abdomen.

"Inspector…" Ward began but tapered off when he narrowed his eyes, "are you…  _drunk_?”

"Nope." Jemma said proudly, "Just slightly inhibited."

Ward smirked, “You mean  _inebriated_?”

"No… yes. But it’s quite alright." Jemma assured him, "I just came by to see how you were doing."

One corner of his mouth curved in a surprised expression before it melted into a bemused grin that made her stomach flutter. Her mouth was dry as he stepped back to allow her to come inside. 

She shuffled in as he walked over to his couch to grab his shirt. Jemma looked around Grant’s place and immediately noticed the difference between his and Hunter’s place. Hunter’s living area was filled with movies and video games, posters of football teams and a pool table. Grant’s place was filled with books, neatly shelved along the wall and a single but classy television. His furniture was practical and minimalistic unlike Hunter whose place screamed bachelor pad. The only thing out of place in the entire apartment were the papers that were scattered across the dining table, which was most likely the case he was studying before he went to take a shower.

Jemma felt strangely comfortable here and had a sinking urge never to leave.

“Have you ever heard of plastination?” He asked her.

Jemma was teeming with the urge to giggle at the opportunity to talk about science. "Of course. It’s a technique for preserving tissue. Water and fat are replaced by polymers, yielding specimens that can be touched and studied. They won’t decay nor give off any unpleasant odors, and even retain most properties of the original sample.”

Grant smiled. “You really know your stuff.”

Jemma smoothed her hair from her face and nearly berated herself aloud for being so weak against his simple compliments, “Pfft, oh, it’s nothing.”

His small smile faded as he looked down at the file in his hand, “Anyway, the case I took on a couple of years ago, the perp used plastination as his tool of murder. It was unofficially dubbed _The Specimen Case_.”

That broke Jemma from her warm haze. “Oh...”

"Yeah. First the killer dismembered and cleaved open the body, then used plastination to turn it into a human specimen." Grant said heavily as he handed her the photos of mutilated bodies that were in his hands.

"Oh dear God…" Jemma breathed.

"That wasn’t enough for them though," Grant grounded out, "they then took the bodies right into the middle of town, and displayed it under a Holographic illumination in the entertainment district."

She couldn’t mask the disgust from her voice. “That… is so  _wrong_.” 

“Thousands of passersby thought they were just looking at an ordinary instillation art piece. But the truth was, they were walking right past the mutilated cadavers hiding underneath it.” Grant said woefully. "It wasn’t enough that this psycho violated these bodies but then he had to put his sick, twisted work out in the open to mess with the minds of all those people who walked by it.”

Jemma watched as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay. She didn’t really know what to do with herself. It felt so much like that first day when she was watching the live feed of him sleeping in the sick bay; he looked so vulnerable. 

"Since the procedures were obviously done by an expert the investigation was focused almost entirely on specialists in the fields of pharmacy and chemistry." Grant took a shaky breath before continuing, "My younger brother, Thomas, he’s just graduated high school and was about to start college at Columbia as a criminology major, he wanted to do a summer internship with the PSB…

"He was helping with another unrelated case of a missing high school teacher and when they searched the guy’s place, they came across plastination resin in a storage bin out back behind the shed." Grant got up and poured himself a drink and downed it in one swallow before he continued. "I told him to not look into the case anymore, but he was… God, he was so _stubborn_. He went out by himself one night, following a lead. Next morning, his body was displayed outside the PSB building."

Jemma eyes widened.

Grant hands were shaking and his breath caught when he spoke again, “He was drowned in a whole tub of the resin and then chopped up and dumped in front of the offices- my brother- “

Without thinking, Jemma rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his shaking form. "I'm sorry," she whispered, hot tears streamed down her face and splashed onto his hair, "I'm so sorry..."

At first, Grant just sat there frozen, not really sure how to react to her touch. And then slowly he turned into her arms, sinking into the warmth there. He breathed her in deep and soon released the tension that had clung to him all day. 

She calmed the storm inside of him, the grief that nearly rips him apart had, for those contained moments, subsided in the arms of this tiny woman who carried more kindness in a single strand of hair than most people had in their entire body.

This woman with the innocent smile and the wisdom of a sage, offered him respite from the demons that haunted his sleep and the dark memories that threatened to drown him. And all she did was held him, held him together when he was sure he couldn't do it himself anymore.

They stayed that way, sharing the warmth of each others’ presence.

For a time, all was calm.

* * *

 

Jemma couldn't remember when she fell asleep, only that Grant’s warmth had enveloped her in a cocoon of security like a big (muscular) safety blanket and the next thing she knew she was in bed.

But as she buried her face into the pillow and breathed in deeply, she had the shocking realization that she was, in fact, not in  _her_  bed. The pillow’s scent smelled faintly of a masculine cologne and aftershave and… something else that was definitely  _not_ her citrus shampoo. 

She untangled herself from beneath the plush comforter and took stock of the room she was currently in. The space was neat and sparse with little in terms of decoration; a dresser and a small bookshelf sat in the corner near the door and a single nightstand (with a digital alarm clock atop it) propped next to the bed was all that furnished the room.

Jemma looked down to see that she was wearing the same clothes she wore yesterday (with the exception of her shoes which were neatly set out at the foot of the bed) and let out a sigh of relief. As far as she can tell, nothing transpired the night before that might warrant a trip to the drug store or perhaps a doctor. 

She pulled herself out of bed and and managed to catch a quick glance at the time. ‘ _7:34 AM… good._ ' she thought as she slipped on her shoes, ' _That will be more than enough time fore me to get back to my place, change, and then come back…_ ’

Pulling the bedroom door open, she shuffled out to see Grant walking in through the front door, looking as though he had just came from the gym, his wet shirt sticking to his well formed body, panting as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. 

She did her best not to stare.

"Hey. I’m going to grab a quick shower and then you can jump in after if you want." Grant said.

Jemma smiled at him shaking her head vigorously, “That’s alright. I’ll just head home and change anyway. Nothing more embarrassing than going into work the next day wearing the same clothes you wore the day before without getting any action the previous night.”

Grant stood there silent for a moment before he snorted. The snort turned into a full blown chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief. “You are something else, Inspector.”

Jemma awkwardly fiddling with the fingernails, she mumbled, “Well, it’s true.”

He held up his hands as a sign of surrender as he walked backwards towards the bathroom. “I’m not fighting you on that."

She turned on him with a look of bafflement, "What I don't understand is if we primarily use the Dominators to take down perps, why do you and Agent May work out so much?"

" _Expect the unexpected._ " Grant replied as he walked into his room to grab a towel. "I was so sure Agent May would have given you _the speech_ on you first day."

Jemma wrinkled her nose. "As you may recall, my first day was a bit...  _unorthodox_."

Grant smirked at her, "I do recall. Did you want breakfast before you go? I don't have much but I have instant coffee and bread and butter for toast.”

Jemma winced. “I can’t. I promised Fitz that I would grab coffee with him this morning.” 

"No worries." Grant replied stopping his movements at the threshold of the bathroom door.

"Thank you, by the way, for tucking me in last night. That was very kind of you." Jemma said, trying fruitlessly to fight off the blush that was creeping back onto her cheek.

"Well, as you know, I’m only a miscreant from nine to five." Grant joked. "Outside of work, I’m a pretty decent guy."

She rolled her eyes but chuckled lightly just as their CID bracelets pinged, signaling that Trip needed them somewhere immediately.

"Well, if you’re going to go back to your place, looks like you’ll have to make it quick. We have to head to a crime scene ASAP." Grant stated as he read the mass text that was just sent out. 

"Shoot." Jemma groaned, "And I was really looking forward to that pumpkin pecan crunch muffin from the coffee shop.” She then looked up awkwardly at Grant who was giving her a bemused look, “As well as spending time with Fitz. _As well as! Argh!_  Forget it.” 

She ran out of his apartment, flushed and trying to act as though she wasn't bothered by his laughter that followed her into the hallway.

Flustered like a prepubescent teen in front of a crush, Jemma rode the elevator down in silence, absolutely _not_ thinking about how very naked Agent Ward would be right then in the shower he was likely taking. 

* * *

 

Across town, Trip drove up to a small motel on the outskirts of town. Standing there, talking to someone Trip assumed was the motel manager, was Victoria Hand.

“Good morning, Senior Inspector,” Trip greeted her with his customary smile. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I didn't expect to be here if it wasn't for the fact that the person who found the body was my 83 year old mother.” Hand snapped in return. “Nearly shrieked my ear off on the phone.”

Trip winced. “I'm sorry to hear that-”

“Enough with pleasantries,” She waved him off before quickly spoke in hush tones, “We need to keep this out of the media. One peep of this to the press and the whole city is going to be on a man hunt for a serial killer.”

Trip didn't mean to look skeptical but it must have been apparent on his face since Hand scoffed, “You go in there and honestly tell me you've never seen anything like this before.”

More confused than ever, Trip moved carefully into the motel room and nearly gagged at the scene.

Two severed heads laid atop the two pillows on the bed near the door (one male, one female) and a pile of severed limbs were strewn about the bed on the farther end.

The odd thing was the room didn't smell of decaying flesh at all, even though the body parts were clearly days old. Also the slight sheen over the anatomical pieces gave Trip a sinking feeling.

“I'm sure it goes without saying that you best tread carefully with this case, Agent Triplett,” Hand said from the door, her voice grim with disgust, “Take him off the case if you have to-”

Trip quickly turned to her with a stern look, “It won't be a problem. He's a professional; he'll be able to handle himself.”

“And if he can't-”

“We have this under control, Senior Inspector.” Trip assured her, pulling out his phone. “My team should be here any minute now. Thank you for stopping in.”

With sniff, Victoria left the crime scene just as Trip dialed the number to the CID analysis lab. “Hey, Bobbi. Yeah, send me everything you've got on _The Specimen Case_ to my tablet. I think the guy's back.”


End file.
